


Tacit Understanding

by XiuChen4Ever



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Albinism, Alpha Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Beta Kim Jongdae | Chen, Bullying, Chatting & Messaging, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Rutting, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-12 08:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: For some reason, people think that if someone can't speak, they can't hear.  Or maybe it's just that no one wants to talk to a red-eyed freak of an alpha wearing a hideous scar from a wound that should have killed him.  No one, that is, except for a constantly-smiling beta that seems incapable of shutting up.





	Tacit Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ExZoo fest, prompt R1A010:  
>  _Minseok is a mute Alpha, and Jongdae is the only Beta at their university who doesn't think he's weird/scary/intimidating - rather, Jongdae finds him cute. Slow Romance, Fluff, College!AU, eventual smut if the author wants._
> 
> This was a challenge to write! Thanks so much to my kfics Discord friends who wordsprinted with me and encouraged me when I needed it and especially my emergency last-minute betas.
> 
> Some notes on A/B/O designations in this fic:  
> I chose to interpret A/B/O as a social/biological dynamic more than a sexual one. So while alphas rut and omegas go into heat, it doesn't necessarily equate to top/bottom in the bedroom outside of those hormonal events. Someone socially dominant might be sexually submissive and vice versa.  
> Therefore EXO's omegas were chosen based on who tends to be emotional/people-pleasing/gets influenced easily by others and the alphas were assigned based on who tends to demonstrate a stoic personality/gets their way/doesn't get (successfully) messed with by others. Since I wanted to limit the amount of alphas/omegas in relation to betas, there were some "borderline" members that ended up as betas just to keep the A/O numbers low.  
> So if your fave was assigned a presentation counter to your expectations, please understand that in no way am I commenting on their sexuality/masculinity, I just thought these designations best suited the social roles they tend to take and the story I wanted to tell.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Minseok is used to it by now.  The stares. The whispers. The shouts.  The slurs. He's used to people parting before him as if he’s surrounded by a force field, but no one meets his gaze.  No one talks _to_ him but everyone talks _about_ him, as if his ears are as useless as his ruined voicebox.

He's used to it because it's been like this his entire life, though not to this extreme.  When he was just an albino freak of nature, born without any color in his body except that which oxygenated blood gave him, his life was hard enough.  But now that he's a death-pale revenant, an impossible survivor of a lethal wound, his silence and scars make him even more unfathomable, unapproachable, untouchable.

Not invisible, but inhuman.

He may as well be the ghost others seem to think he is, doomed to drift among the living without truly being one of them.  But he still has to eat, so he carries his steel tray through the university cafeteria, heading to the small table in the draftiest, least-appealing corner like he always does.  There he can keep his back to the wall and glare at anyone whose gaze lingers on him for more than a curious second.

Except that today, someone else has beaten him to it.

Scowling, he sets his back against one of the support pillars that hold the arching glass-and-steel roof over the open space of the cafeteria.  Reluctant to cause a scene (or interact with people any more than he has to), Minseok darts his carmine eyes from side to side, searching for an empty table to claim.  But the shaggy mop of hair hovering over his usual table, as black as Minseok's is white, suddenly lifts, and dark eyes lock on his face.

Then something _very_ strange happens: The corners of this stranger's lips, already naturally upturned, curve toward sculpted cheekbones in what appears to be a genuine _smile._

Minseok glances around the pillar at his back to make sure the kid couldn’t be focused on someone behind him, but no one else is paying any attention to this skinny little interloper—except for a table packed full of several snickering faces (and a few concerned-looking ones).

Ah.  A bet, then.

Minseok suppresses a sigh, flaring his nostrils instead to catch the stranger's scent over that of sub-par food and unhygienic freshmen.  It's bright, pungent, clean, metallic, and would be rather pleasant if it weren't for the fact that it's new, unexpected, and therefore automatically unwelcome.  Jaw set, Minseok resumes his approach to what he thinks of as _his_ table.  At least this grinning punk is a beta—one good alpha growl from Minseok should send him scurrying back to his snickering pack with his tail between his legs.  

So he plunks his tray down on the engineered-wood table with a bang that makes the beta jump, then follows it up with what should be a throaty snarl, sharp and chilling like a plunge into an icy lake.

Except, of course, no rumble is audible as Minseok glares at the still-smiling whelp that dares to invade his space.  No sound comes out at all except for the huff of heated air rushing through the alpha’s bared teeth.

Still, Minseok has charisma even without his voice, and he lets his alpha don't-fuck-with-me-I-will-end-you aura roll off of him like a dust cloud after an explosion.  Minseok feels gratified when the beta's eyes widen and he trembles like a cornered rodent, held upright by his chair and the conveniently-adjacent wall.

"Whoa," the beta breathes.  "You really are a fucking badass, aren't you?"

Minseok just glares harder.

"I-I mean, of _course_ you're a badass," the beta continues, straight black eyebrows doing some sort of thing where the inner ends curve up toward his forehead.  "Anyone who survived the Justice against Huī Láng has to be the baddest fucker in all of Asia at least."

 _Huī Láng was my friend,_ Minseok wants to say.   _I broke when he denounced me.  It shattered me to kill him._

But of course all he can do is glare, and his narrowed eyes and ferocious scowl seem to be powerless before this kid's stupid long eyelashes and curly kitten smile.

 _Go.  Away,_ Minseok mouths, slowly and clearly so he'll be understood, adding a rude hand gesture along with a sweeping wave of dismissal.

But the little beta doesn't scurry away or curse at Minseok or laugh in his face.  He fucking _pouts._

"Aww, but you look so lonely sitting here every day by yourself," the kid says, bringing his hands to his face and actually giving Minseok _aegyo._  "I thought you might like some company."

Minseok's too snowed by the dumb little hands curled into paw-fists by the kid's stupidly-high cheekbones to do anything but blink.   _Fucking_ **_aegyo_ ** _!?_

Evidently taking the alpha's non-reaction for permission to stay, the little beta grins wide and blinding, so big that the kid's black eyes are squeezed into sideways parentheses in order to still fit on his face.

"I'm Kim Jongdae, by the way.  And you're Kim Minseok. Everyone knows that.  You're basically famous."

 _I'm basically a freak, you mean,_ Minseok thinks, rolling his eyes and dropping into his seat.  The kid isn't taunting him yet, at least, and despite the mediocre quality of the university’s canteen, Minseok is fucking hungry.  He tears into the steak on his tray, abandoning his usually-elegant table manners and letting the red juices run down his chin. If he can't intimidate the kid, maybe he can gross him out instead.

But the beta just reaches over with a napkin and wipes Minseok's face for him.  Minseok freezes at the contact, accidentally inhaling way too much of the kid's electric scent as he lifts his disbelieving gaze to the still-smiling beta.  Fucking _nobody_ touches Minseok.

The kid chuckles.  "You're a messy pup," the beta scolds.  "It's a good thing you're so cute."

 _Cute?_  Minseok furrows his brow, tilts his head, and lifts his chin, gesturing to the horrific red scars that stand out against his pale throat like blood on snow.  The alpha might have heard himself called "creepily handsome" once, but that was _before._  Now, any appeal he once had despite his death-pale skin and disturbing crimson gaze is offset by the horror of his injury, both for how it looks and for where it came from.  

The beta lifts a finger as if to trace the raised scarlet flesh with a knuckle but Minseok rears back like an indignant cobra, tucking his chin to obscure the scar.  He glares at the kid from beneath furrowed brows.

But the beta only smirks.  "Battle scars are always sexy," the kid says, dropping his hand.  "And in your case, they let the world know there's a _man_ behind that baby face."

Minseok leans back further to stare judgmentally across the table at the softly-smiling beta.  Facing death isn't sexy. If this kid thinks scars are badass, he must not have any significant ones of his own.

Minseok is officially Done™.  He stands up, abandoning his half-empty tray, and grabs the beta’s narrow wrist.  The kid yelps in surprise as Minseok hauls him out of the booth and starts dragging him across the cafeteria toward the table full of snickering underclassmen.  The beta turns out to be a fingerbreadth taller than Minseok, but Minseok is an alpha. Stature aside, strength is still his birthright, and it takes very little effort to shove the boy at his friends and pin the whole table with a dose of furious alpha glare.

They all freeze, stunned statues except for Jongdae, who reaches for Minseok as he turns his back on the idiot pups.  The alpha easily evades the beta's grasp, stalking back to _his_ table and ignoring the pleading calls of his name coming from behind him.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

The next day, the bold little beta is back.

This time, he waits for Minseok to settle in his usual spot before bouncing over, ridiculous grin lighting his way like the headlamp on a bullet train.  The kid plops down in the seat across from Minseok with a little bow, and when the alpha glares at him, he just rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I want to apologize for yesterday," the kid says.  "I think I was accidentally kind of a dick. I mean, I probably came across as really sleazy, touching you and calling you cute and all.  Uh, not that you aren't cute, because you totally are, but I don't want you to think I was just, like, trying to get in your pants or something.  Because I wasn't. Not that I wouldn't want to! Just, well, I—"

Minseok stands up, taking a step to round the table and haul the yammering idiot back to his yammering idiot friends, but the beta’s eyes get big and he fumbles in the front pocket of his jeans.

"Wait!" the kid says, his bright, clean scent growing even sharper with anxiety.  "I'm sorry. I know I talk too much, especially when I'm flustered, but here—my phone number."  

The kid tries to hand Minseok a slip of paper, but the alpha just stares down at him, taking another step around the table to make it easier to grab the beta's wrist.

"Okay, I get it," the kid says, setting the paper on the table and standing up.  "You like to eat in peace, I respect that. But, well, if you wanted, you could text me sometime.  I’d like to get to know you, and I'm willing to do it on your terms, so I won't bother you at lunch anymore... unless you text me and invite me to."  This last line is delivered with a wink, and then the beta saunters back across the cafeteria to rejoin his pack.

Minseok frowns down at the slip of paper the whole time he eats, but when he gets up to toss his trash, he tucks the paper in his pocket.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

True to his word, the strange little beta doesn't invade his space while Minseok eats anymore.  But the alpha can still feel the kid watching him from across the room, and whenever Minseok so much as glances in the boy’s direction, the beta smiles and waves.

It's unsettling how quickly Minseok begins to look forward to lunchtime.  And it's even weirder how, late at night, he takes out his phone and stares at his newest contact.

 _It’s a trap!_ he screams at himself.  It has to be. Never in his entire life has anyone sought out his company without an excess of hormones or an ulterior motive.

 _Not “never,”_ an insidious internal voice whispers.   **_He_ ** _did, once._

 _Yes, “never.”_  Minseok tamps down any unjaded thoughts.  Huī Láng may have had pure intentions once, but things had quickly changed.  Even if this stupid too-smiley beta genuinely believes he’s “just being a nice guy,” befriending the shunned transfer student can’t actually be more than an ego-boosting addition to some subconscious list of good deeds.  This best-case scenario is still bad enough—Minseok is better off being alone than he’d be with another false friend.

But with the way the kid’s pack payed such close attention to his interactions with Minseok and the way everyone but the beaming beta falls silent whenever the alpha passes by their table with his tray, every sense Minseok has is shrieking with unease.  This whole situation reeks of the classic buddy-bet, where the kid has been goaded by his friends to elicit some specific reaction from the weird guy.

The only possible way Minseok can escape with dignity intact is by refusing to engage with the kid or his pack at all.

Yet every day, the dumb beta smiles and waves at him with the enthusiasm of a toddler seeing a puppy.  And every night when Minseok closes his eyes, the after-image of his phone’s display lingers, the words _Stupid Lunch Beta_ seared across the inside of his eyelids as he chases sleep.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

It takes two weeks and several tumblers of good whiskey on a Friday night before Minseok actually sends the kid a text.  And the text, after much tipsy deliberation, is a single word.

####      `≪ _Why?_ `

It takes only a few seconds for Minseok's phone to indicate Stupid Lunch Beta has read the message.  It takes about thirty seconds more before he gets a reply.

####      `≫Minseok-hyung?`

Well.  That's an honorific he hasn't heard (or read) in a _long_ time.  He'd been in China for over a decade and a half, and before that he hadn’t known anyone near enough in age to call _hyung._  But he still knows it's more than a little presumptive for the beta to address Minseok with an honorific implying closeness rather than one granting him more formal respect, especially without Minseok's permission.  

He narrows his eyes at the screen, unsure whether the warmth behind his sternum is entirely caused by the whiskey.  He doesn't realize he's just been staring at his phone for a fair few minutes until it buzzes in his hand, displaying another message from the bold little brat.

####      `≫I told you  
≫you look like someone who could use a friend`

Minseok frowns at his phone.  Apparently, his efforts to project a glacial aura of self-sufficiency are instead seen as lonely and pathetic.  But that wasn't actually the question he'd been asking.

####      `≪ _Why invest so much energy in setting me up for humiliation when I'm already a pariah?_ `

The reply comes back two sips of whiskey later.

####      `≫I don't understand`

Minseok snorts, one of the few noises he can still make.  So the kid is going to play dumb. Well, Minseok isn't dumb, and he has no patience for playing.

####      `≪ _Did you know Huī Láng?  
≪Is this revenge? _`

####       `≫uh`  
`≫no to both`  
`≫why would I`  
`≫why would anyone`

Minseok contemplates the glowing screen before sending his own rapid-fire responses.

####       `≪ _Because I lived._`  
`≪ _Because I killed him._`  
`≪ _Because you want to be known as the one who took me down._`  
`≪ _Because you don't like the way I look._`  
`≪ _Because you don't like the way I look at you._`

And then, when there's no reply for another two sips, he adds,

####      `≪ _Take your pick._  
≪ _Or don't._  
≪ _People have never needed an actual reason to revile me._`

Minseok tosses his phone onto the bed beside him and pours another two fingers into his tumbler.  Now the kid knows Minseok won't play along with his little scheme. That should be that, setting his life back to boring, predictable safety.  

He doesn't expect the buzz of the phone against his knee a few minutes later.

####      `≫hyung I think you need a hug  
≫(っ ^_^ )っ`

Minseok doesn't dignify the stupid emoji with a response.  He just sits and sips his whiskey, grateful that he lost his larynx instead of his tongue.  Either would have rendered him inarticulate, but at least this way he can still drown his taste buds in Ireland's best.

The phone buzzes again.

####       `≫I'm glad you lived`  
`≫you killed him because you had to`  
`≫I want to be known as the one that cheered you up`  
`≫I love the way you look`  
`≫and I especially love the way you look at me`

This stupid beta.  Is this supposed to be flirting or something?  Nobody would fall for that greasy shit, especially not someone who’s been played before.

####       `≪ _WTF_`  
`≪ _All I do is glare at you._`  
`≪ _You're doing a terrible job of convincing me you're not trying to set me up._`

####       `≫your glare is dangerously sexy`  
`≫and you don't always glare at me`  
`≫sometimes you just give me a blank stare before going back to glaring at everyone else`  
`≫it makes me feel special`

Minseok has no idea what to say to that, so he just leaves it on read.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

When Minseok wakes up, he finds another text from Jongdae.

####      `≫good morning hyung!  
≫I hope you get to be lazy today`

Minseok still finds this kid highly suspicious, so he doesn't respond.  Ignoring the message, he spends his Saturday morning intensively cleaning his dorm, just like he always does.  It doesn’t take longer than that, because the single room he occupies is smaller than the walk-in closet in the master bedroom of the mansion Hui Lang had shared with his pack in Beijing.  And since Minseok had considered very few things in that mansion to truly belong to him, he hadn’t brought much with him to gather dust on the dorm room’s built-in furniture.

Minseok had only taken what few clothes he’d chosen himself, abandoning the designer looks his former pack leader preferred he wear.  His wardrobe now mostly consists of casual athletic wear, but he’s a student. On campus, his array of track pants and sweats don’t stand out any more than his freaky complexion and freakier eyes already do.  

All his academic supplies had been packed too, since most of them were paid for by scholarships Minseok had applied for and earned.  But he’d transferred all his important files into cloud storage so he could leave the laptop behind with all the other gifts he’d been given by the man who’d disowned him.  The only thing he’d kept that he hadn’t acquired himself was his phone, and only because he needed some visual way to communicate with strangers if hand gestures failed him.

He’d also taken a memorial program for the elaborate traditional funeral he didn’t attend, tucking it into his copy of Trinary Transcendance along with an old handwritten note that misplaced sentiment wouldn’t allow him to discard.  The holy book, the note, and his donated clothes were all he’d brought with him from Korea to China as a child, and it seemed fitting to bring books and clothes back to his native country.

Thankfully, the dorm room had come furnished.  His ample scholarship had provided enough funds to put sheets on the provided twin-sized mattress and afford him a modest laptop to put on the heavy-duty desk built into the wall opposite his metal cot.  There were already industrial blinds on the window facing the door, and in the corner across from the tiny en-suite is a bolted-down minifridge/icebox/microwave combo. It barely performs any of the expected functions but it’s still enough to prepare the cups of instant noodles stacked neatly on the shelf above it.  

When he’d moved in, Minseok had precisely arranged his books on the steel shelf above his desk and stashed his other supplies in the stiff drawers.  He’d hung his clothes in the narrow closet and spent a bit of his weekly scholarship disbursement on an indigo anti-slip bath mat and matching towels that are a soothing contrast to the harsh white-on-white of the rest of the bathroom.   He’d stocked the microscopic medicine cabinet with fragrance-free toiletries that wouldn’t remind him of the oily, slightly sulphuric odor of his former pack leader. They also fail to obliterate Minseok’s own scent, but there’s no one around anymore to complain that he smells like an octogenarian coated in liniment.

Over the last month things have been added here and there, but the cinder-block walls are still devoid of decoration and the laminate floor remains bare, leaving the alpha’s environment impersonal and easy to clean.  And instead of attending religious services on weekends, Minseok performs his own spiritual ritual with more reverence and mindfulness than he’d ever given his prayers.

First, he takes his scant belongings off the shelves, wipes everything down, and sets everything back in its proper place, tidy and precise.  His bed gets stripped and remade with perfect military corners, and the fridge, icebox, and microwave get emptied and sanitized. He scrubs the white porcelain and tile in the bathroom until everything gleams, ensures the mirrors and window are sparkling and streak-free, and sweeps and mops the blue-green floor until it reminds him of the perfectly-undisturbed surface of some placid pond.  

Today is no different, and as he's on his belly vacuuming under his bed, he snorts at the beta’s message from hours ago.  

 _Lazy ._  The closest Minseok gets to that particular adjective is dully gazing at random variety shows on his laptop while drowning the voices in his head with expensive foreign alcohol, and he doesn't let himself indulge in such self-pity very often.

He may be ugly and inauspicious, but he had survived the Justice of the Fangs; the ritualized fight to the death that supposedly exonerates the innocent and executes the guilty.  Despite his church-sponsored upbringing, Minseok's not sure how much he buys into the idea of divine providence. Still, it's much less depressing to believe his survival is because the triune lupine gods have some kind of use for Minseok—not because his unlucky coloring marks him as "Death's unholy bastard" as Huī Láng's beloved sister had accused.

Minseok may be unholy and unlucky; he may be scarred, silenced, and exiled, but he doesn’t belong to Death just yet.  He has to believe there is some purpose left for him in this world before he goes on to the next, though he has no fucking clue what it is.  But since he still has the gift of his life, he's hardly going to be _lazy_ when it comes to bettering himself for whatever divine role he's supposedly meant to fill.  

Besides, he _really_ hates dust and clutter.  It soothes the chaos in his mind to have an ordered environment, even if there are few things to organize and nobody sees them but himself.

The dumb little beta isn't lazy, either, at least not when it comes to texting Minseok.  There's a message from the kid every morning, cheery and encouraging, and another each night before bed, sweet and soothing, even though the alpha doesn't respond.   Somehow, Minseok has gotten himself his own personal cheerleader, and he's not sure whether he finds it contrived (and therefore annoying) or possibly the teeniest bit cute.

Jongdae's sunny smile and ridiculously-enthusiastic wave every day in the cafeteria are definitely contrived and way too stupid to be cute.  But they might not be annoying, either.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

One Saturday night, Jongdae's evening text isn’t the wish for restful sleep and peaceful dreams Minseok has come to expect.  Instead, the digital words send an unexpected rock to the pit of his stomach.

####       `≫hyung you haven't texted back in like 3 weeks`  
`≫do you want me to leave you alone?`

Minseok blinks at the text, unsure as to what's swirling inside him at the moment.  Somehow his fight-or-flight reaction has been kicked off by the thought of his phone returning to the silent lump of plastic and glass it had been ever since he'd changed his number to halt the constant flow of death threats in three languages.  His eyes flick to the clock in the upper right corner of the screen—only ten p.m. His homework for the weekend is complete, and his room is freshly tidied. Minseok can soothe himself and indulge the beta at the same time.

He collects the half-full bottle from the shelf above the microwave and grabs a clean tumbler from the adjacent pile of neatly-stacked dishware.  Then he settles back on the newly-changed bedding, propping pillows behind himself until he's comfortable.

####       `≪ _Give me half an hour for the whiskey to kick in._`  
`≪ _Then you can yap at me, little pup._`

He pours three fingers into his glass and sips, letting the deep amber liquid soften the harshest edges of his reflexive defenses, making him feel more like a pangolin and less like a puffer fish.  He's tough, after all, so he doesn’t need to be prickly. He doesn't need to posture to assert his dominance and invulnerability. He can let this whelp chew on the tip of his tail for a bit. He might even be looking forward to it.

Betas, who make up over half the world’s population, are known for being more loyal, dependable, and sociable than either of the other two presentations.  They're also the best at following directions, so Minseok is entirely unsurprised when exactly thirty minutes later, his phone buzzes on the bedspread beside him.

####       `≫hyung I'm not a pup`  
`≫I'm only 2 years younger`  
`≫and I'm taller than you`

Minseok feels the corners of his lips twitch.  This beta.  Bold as thunder.  Well, Minseok can be bold, too.

####      `≪ _What prize do you win from your pack if you succeed in this silly little game?_`

####      `≫what game?`

Minseok rolls his eyes at his phone.

####       `≪ _I'm mute, not stupid._`  
`≪ _I know they put you up to seducing me or whatever this is._`  
`≪ _They must have promised you something good if you're being this persistent._`

``

His phone informs him the beta is taking a long time to compose his reply, so he's a little surprised when the text that eventually comes through is so short.

####      `≫hyung you think so poorly of yourself`

Minseok replies immediately.

####       `≪ _On the contrary._`  
`≪ _I think poorly of everyone else._`

The alpha coaxes the whiskey from his tumbler in slow, savoring sips, and his phone doesn't buzz again until he's poured another two fingers into the glass.

####       `≫hyung there's no game`  
`≫all I want to win is your smile`  
`≫how can I prove it to you?`

Minseok snorts.  Such cheesiness definitely should not be rewarded.  Yet when he imagines lunch without the beta's bright smile and stupid little wave, he's struck with an out-of-character urge to give the boy _something._  It's embarrassing just how much value a single friendly face acquires when it's the only one in the entire crowd, and Minseok, of all people, fucking _knows_ better than to get attached to the illusion of friendliness.  

But even the beta's pack seems annoyed by their member's actions at this point, scoffing or rolling their eyes when the kid greets him every day.  There’s no hidden snickering or ribcage elbowing or careful masks of respect as Minseok might expect from people trying to make a fool out of him. The other boys seem to be making fun of the excitable beta, albeit fondly.

Hmm.  Maybe the kid really is acting of his own volition.  Still, Minseok can't imagine very many reasons why a handsome guy, seemingly happy, apparently popular, would decide to approach the most unattractive,  scowl-prone, aggressively anti-social guy on campus. He'd rather know up front what the kid wants from him. He's been ambushed before and isn't at all in a hurry to relive the experience.  

Minseok sucks residual whiskey off his lower lip, then his thumb tiptoes over the touchscreen.

####      `≪ _Why are you trying so hard with me?_`

####       `≫honestly`  
`≫this is so embarrassing but`  
`≫you smell really really good`  
`≫all crisp and woodsy and herbal and fresh like a forest in the snow`  
`≫you're so cute and I want to sniff you all the time`

Well.  That is not exactly the answer Minseok expected, especially not from a beta.  If Jongdae were an omega approaching a heat, Minseok could have accepted something like this.  While he’s used to being told he smells like an old man or cough drops, he knows his alpha pheromones are quite strong.  Strong enough to override the usual distaste for his corpse-like pallor and creepy red eyes long enough for some frantic hormone-driven fucking, especially if the lights are off.  But a beta shouldn't be susceptible, unless... But no, that's completely ridiculous, even if the sparky little beta smells rather appealing himself.

And he keeps calling Minseok _cute,_ which nobody—not even Huī Láng, who'd made a show of doting on his "poor little Báiyù"—had ever called him before.  "Creepily handsome" is the pinnacle of the compliments he's received, but he's much more used to his omega partners calling him things like "hard-bodied" or "pretty enough with his eyes closed" or "sexy in the dark."

But now, even with his unnerving eyes hidden behind nearly-translucent lids, even with his face flushed vermilion with exertion and thrown back in pleasure as his knot is milked, no one would find him the slightest bit sexy anymore.  His Adam's apple had been one of his favorite points of manly pride before his already-ignoble life had completely gone to shit. Now it’s obliterated, replaced by a thick, twisting web of scar tissue repellent to eyes in the light and fingertips in the dark.  And he can't even grunt or growl or howl his desire or satisfaction over a partner pinned beneath his body, instead only able to pant perversely as he takes his pleasure.

Pheromones or not, he's not going to be any omega's enthusiastic choice for a heat partner anymore.

His phone startles him when it vibrates, pulling him out of his cynical thoughts.

####       `≫shit that was probably super creepy`  
`≫sorry if I weirded you out`  
`≫please don't block me hyung`

At that, Minseok's shoulders shake with voiceless huffs of disbelieving laughter.  There's a wry smile on his face as he responds.

####       `≪ _Stay in your lane._`  
`≪ _Being creepy and weirding people out is Hyung's job, not yours._`

And then, because he's got that whiskey-warmed feeling lodged against his sternum, he throws the kid a bone.

####       `≪ _You can sit by Hyung in the cafeteria and sniff away if you want, you little freak._`  
`≪ _I'm just going to ignore you anyway._`

Can't have the beta assuming tolerance equates to affection, after all.

Except that the boy is turning out to be quite the little optimist.

####       `≫wow really?`  
`≫thanks hyung!`  
`≫ignoring is way better than glaring`  
`≫I'm so honored`

Rolling his eyes, Minseok empties his tumbler and sets his phone into do-not-disturb mode.  Too bad there's not a similar setting for his brain.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

From the beta's demeanor on Monday, Minseok may as well have given him the keys to the fucking kingdom.  He's just so _chirpy,_ running his always-smiling mouth a kilometer per second, interrupted only by the deep, nasal inhalations the kid releases as contented little sighs.

It's either incredibly adorable or incredibly violating, Minseok hasn't quite decided which.

"Hyung, today the professor chose _my_ lyrics to read out to the class as an example of metaphoric language and I was so proud but also super embarrassed because I don't even let my pack read my lyrics, they're usually really personal and I'm self-conscious even turning them in for the professor to see—"

Between all the sniffing and rambling, Minseok is mildly amused that the beta's tray of food somehow empties way before his own.  The kid must not bother to actually chew. Not that he's paying any attention to the excitable boy, though filtering the clashing odors of the cafeteria through the beta's sparking clean scent is a pleasant-enough compensation for tolerating the boy’s presence.

When Minseok's own tray is finally emptied, the beta stands up with him, rocking on his heels and practically thrumming as he blinds Minseok with a megawatt smile.

"Thanks for letting me sit with you, Hyung!  I'll be back tomorrow unless you text me and tell me you'd rather eat alone.  Have a great afternoon!"

And then the kid scampers back over to his pack, several of whom are grinning and bouncing in mockery of the little beta, and a few of whom are watching Minseok with decidedly unfriendly expressions.

Minseok glares back, then turns in his tray and heads to class without looking behind him.  He’s been abhorred on sight most of his life—being the target of sneers and glares is nothing new.  But since he’s no longer under anyone’s thumb, he doesn’t have to accept it with a polite smile anymore.  He’s free to be rude right back, and he exercises this new right with relish.

As far as Minseok is concerned, the entire world is full of idiots and assholes, and they can all fuck right off.  He’s proven that he doesn’t fucking need _anybody._  He’s doing just fine on his own—pack members and pack politics are absolutely Not His Problem anymore.

But maybe this Jongdae kid is bearable.  By himself. In very small doses.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

This new routine continues for a few weeks, and despite his declaration that he'd ignore the cheerful little beta, Minseok finds himself drawn into the boy's unending chatter.  He begrudgingly learns all about the beta's pack, made up of two alphas, two omegas, and five betas including Jongdae himself. It's currently led by one of the other betas—the oldest member, called Jun-something—because the previous alpha evidently left for China suddenly, handing over the reigns before he went.  The pack's two remaining alphas—whom Jongdae describes as "tiny but terrifying" for one and "our bratty overgrown maknae" for the other—have repeatedly stated their lack of desire to assume leadership, the smaller because he has no ambition for power, and the younger because he prefers to manipulate the pack from the sidelines.

"But I'm a little worried for Leader-hyung," Jongdae confesses over his hamburger one day, "Because Duìzhăng just packed up one night and left, only a few weeks before the semester started.  He only said he needed to go, that he’d be studying abroad, but since that night his phone number has been out of service and his social media accounts have all been deactivated or set to private.  None of us have been able to contact him at all, and everyone but Tao and Leader-hyung are starting to suspect that Duìzhăng's not actually coming back."

But Jongdae's unease about his pack's leadership situation is eclipsed by his delight in his studies, and if Minseok weren't ignoring the beta, he'd have to admit that the snippets of songs he sings for him are actually quite good.  Jongdae's voice is bright and clear and versatile in a way that justifies the boy’s dual major in vocal performance along with music composition. Minseok can't help but stare enviously at the beta's bobbing Adam's apple whenever he sings, wistful for the days when he and Huī Láng would drag the pack to karaoke rooms and belt out Mandopop together ‘til the wee hours of the morning.

Why couldn't Huī Láng have just _believed_ him?  

For his part, Minseok had believed—in the man he’d loved, in the friendship they’d shared, that the pack that had formed around the two of them had at least respected Minseok to some degree, even if they’d also been disgusted by his appearance and resentful of his relationship with their leader.

Minseok had believed in all of it with the naivety and optimism of a fucking golden retriever, right up until the beautiful illusions had shattered between Huī Láng’s enlarged teeth along with Minseok’s hyoid bone.

And for all that Minseok accepts his new life, embraces his freedom, hates deception and aggressively seeks to avoid or expose lies of any kind, part of him will never forgive the triune gods who supposedly saved his life for making him in such a way that he’d be forced to fight for it in the first place.

Because deep down inside him, an inconsolable voice is constantly screaming that he and his beloved could be singing together still, Huī Láng's sweet voice entwined with Minseok's velvety one.  Their lives could have harmonized as perfectly as their song if only Minseok had been born a normal, healthy color instead of white like death, inspiring tragedy, abandonment, and a lifetime of subversive whispers that eventually tore the entire Dawnhart pack apart.

Jongdae's voice is like honey, but whenever the beta sings, all Minseok can taste is bitterness.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Minseok knows that someone as outgoing as Jongdae isn't going to tolerate being ignored forever, but he expects the boy to either get bored, give up, and go back to sitting with his pack, or to become frustrated with Minseok's inattention, pushing at him until the alpha drives him away.

He does not expect the beta to show up with a brand-new bottle of whiskey one Friday and slide it across the lunch table.  It has a bright red bow around it with a dangling paper tag reading _Happy Birthday Minseok-hyung._  

Minseok blinks at this unexpected gift, having forgotten that his birthday is indeed this weekend.  Then he blinks up at Jongdae, tilting his head to the side in inquiry.

"I miss your texts, Hyung," the beta announces.  "I'd obviously prefer that you found me intriguing enough to talk to when you aren't drunk, but I'm not too proud to take what I can get."

Minseok snorts audibly, causing Jongdae's face to flicker into shock and then painfully-bright delight at the first direct acknowledgment the alpha has granted him in weeks.

"Wow, that was cute.  Uh, so maybe you'll text me later tonight?"

Minseok sighs, also audibly, but then tucks the whiskey into his bag.

The albino is going to have to start wearing sunglasses at lunchtime to protect his sensitive eyes from Jongdae's neon smile.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

That night, Jongdae doesn't text him when he usually does, leaving the phone lying dark and lifeless on the bedspread by Minseok's thigh.  He frowns at it, annoyed with the beta's cheek. He's sure that the whiskey and the radio silence are a test, a goad, designed to get the alpha to text Jongdae first.  But surely the beta's garrulousness will force him to initiate contact eventually.

The silent phone mocks Minseok for an hour.  Not that he's staring at it or anything, willing it to light up with a buzzing text alert.

Another half-hour passes before Minseok is tipsy enough for his fingers to disobey his command not to touch the stupid phone.

####       `≪ _Thanks for the whiskey._`  
`≪ _It's surprisingly decent, especially considering it's Japanese._`

The response is lightning-fast, mollifying Minseok with the thought that he wasn't the only one staring at his phone.

####       `≫you're very welcome`  
`≫I'm glad you like it`  
`≫Kyungsoo helped me pick it out`  
`≫he said Japan has been obsessed w/ whiskey for 40 yrs now`  
`≫so they're getting pretty good`

Minseok smirks around a sip of the gifted whiskey.  Part of him wants to mock the little beta for being ignorant about classy booze, but another part is a teeny bit touched that the boy cared enough about Minseok enjoying his gift to get help making a good choice.

####      `≪ _Usually when a guy spends this much to get someone drunk, he's hoping for more than a few text messages._`

####       `≫ah you caught me`  
`≫I'm hoping for a *lot* of text messages`

Minseok rolls his eyes.  This beta. But before he can come up with a snarky reply, his phone buzzes again.

####       `≫really hyung I just want you to be comfortable`  
`≫you always seem so on edge around me`  
`≫you don't even look at me anymore`

The alpha frowns at the digital words, thumbs hovering over the touch keyboard.   _That's because it hurts to watch you sing_ seems too emo, and _I don't want to scare you away anymore_ seems too affectionate.  His brow furrows as his fingers finally move.

####      `≪ _Why do you want me to look at you?_`

####       `≫because I want to know what you're thinking`  
`≫they say the eyes are the window to the soul`  
`≫plus I think yours are really pretty`  
`≫like a pair of sparkling rubies`

This last line prompts a snort.  There is definitely something wrong with this kid.

####      `≪ _Do you have a thing for vampires or something?_`

####       `≫ew`  
`≫no`  
`≫I just have a thing for you`

Minseok immediately narrows his eyes at the phone, curling a lip as he responds.

####      `≪ _You don't even know me._`

####      `≫I know enough to be hungry to learn more`

The alpha snorts.  He can never decide if Jongdae's texts are playboy-greasy or cheesily sincere.  Either way, Minseok won't be manipulated. Whatever the kid's heard about him, it's surely a tale blossomed far beyond the seeds of truth that inspired the jungle of rumors.  As soon as Minseok disillusions him, the thrill of sniffing an outlaw will wither along with the legends.

####      `≪ _Exactly what do you think you know?_`

####       `≫Kim Minseok aka Báiyù`  
`≫born 26 March 1990`  
`≫engineering major with less than a year left to go`  
`≫Korean by birth but lived in China since age 5`  
`≫formerly of the Dawnhart pack led by Huī Láng`  
`≫by all accounts seen by Huī Láng as a beloved brother after growing up together`  
`≫then the story gets distorted`  
`≫but it ends with trial by combat, a slain alpha, a scattered pack, and a stolen voice`

Minseok blinks, then rolls his eyes.  

####      `≪ _Was that last bit some of your song lyrics?_`

With the barest hint of a smile, the alpha imagines the beta sputtering indignantly at his phone.  But a moment later, a decidedly un-indignant response arrives.

####       `≫I'd be honored to write a song about you hyung`  
`≫but a good ballad has more than one verse`
  


When Minseok leaves that hanging, the beta makes himself plain.

####      `≫how much whiskey would it take for you to tell me what actually happened?`

It takes three fingers of whiskey for Minseok to even formulate a response.

####      `≪ _So you work for a tabloid, then?_`

A moment later, Jongdae replies.

####      `≫hyung you always assume the worst of me`

Minseok sighs as he types.

####      `≪ _I assume the worst of everyone._`

####      `≫is it really so hard to believe someone could have a genuine interest in getting closer to you hyung?`

####      `≪ _Yes._`

####      `≫why`

####      `≪ _Because no one ever has before._`

Minseok hadn't really meant to type that last bit, but the whiskey seems to melt a direct path between his innermost thoughts and his fingers.  He sighs, considering turning off his phone because now Jongdae's going to come back with "But Huī Láng loved you" and Minseok will have to say "Not really.  He loved feeling like a benevolent, kind, accepting alpha. He loved having an exotic pet to show off. But he didn't love _me,_ and he certainly didn't trust me, and he didn't even hesitate to accuse and condemn me.  He laughed at my tears before sinking his teeth into my throat."

But Jongdae doesn't mention Huī Láng at all.

####       `≫well that's just sad`  
`≫they're all missing out`

Minseok scoffs.

####       `≪ _On what, exactly?_`  
`≪ _Bad luck?_`  
`≪ _Poor company?_`  
`≪ _Guilt by association?_`

####       `≫oh I'm sorry`  
`≫I thought I was talking to a badass alpha`  
`≫not a self pitying puppy`

Minseok blinks, then his shoulders shake with wry mirth.  This beta. Such _sass._

####       `≪ _I tried to tell you to piss off and go away._`  
`≪ _You stuck around._`  
`≪ _And you got me drunk._`  
`≪ _Now you get MaudlinSeok._`  
`≪ _He's kind of a dick._`

_Mostly to himself,_ Minseok thinks, but he takes another swig of whiskey anyway.

####       `≫I can see that`  
`≫but at least he's a communicative dick`

Minseok snorts again.

####       `≪ _Your pack seems full of playful pups._`  
`≪ _Why are you so desperate to chat with some bitter ruin of a freak of nature?_`

####       `≫well aside from your addicting scent`  
`≫you're actually quite witty`  
`≫and`  
`≫well`  
`≫you're a really good listener`

A beat passes while Minseok stares at his phone, then another, before he dissolves into voiceless laughter, kicking his feet against the bed as his thumbs tap at the screen.

####      `≪ _You say that like I have a choice._`

And before he can be accused of being emo again, he follows up with,

####      `≪ _Even if I could talk, you'd never let me get a word in edgewise._`

And then, still giggling silently,

####       `≪ _No wonder your pack put you up to chatting me up._`  
`≪ _They just wanted some peace and quiet, didn't they?_`

Minseok's screen fills with a string of vowels led by "hy" and capped off with "ng," causing the alpha's breathy chuckles to renew.  The next thing Jongdae sends him is a pouting selfie, all long lashes over dark eyes and protruding ducky lips. Minseok's heart skips a beat.  Damn the bold little beta's stupid curled-up lips, and damn him for wielding them so effectively all the fucking time.

####       `≫hyung next time I get you drunk I insist on being there with you`  
`≫so I can pout at you in person when you mock me`

Still chuckling, Minseok shakes his head.  He's lived through a lot of shit, but he knows his limits.

####       `≪ _No deal._`  
`≪ _I'd never survive._`

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Jongdae seems to have taken Minseok's drunken teasing as a show of some sort of affection, because he only gets more smiley after that night.  He sits so close to Minseok in the cafeteria that he's practically in the alpha's lap, and now his twice-daily texts are accompanied by a selfie, all ruffled hair and smiles in the morning and sleepy eyes and smiles at night.

After ten days of being subjected to this unfair assault, Minseok has had enough.  He scowls at the photo he's just received of Jongdae all soft and sleep-rumpled, peeking out from beneath his blanket, and decides two can play at this game.

Using the front-facing camera of his phone as a mirror, he ruffles his bone-white fringe until it's fanned over one eye and licks his lips, leaving them slightly parted.  He selects the black-and-white filter and gives Jongdae a dose of his own medicine.

The response is immediate.

####       `≫hyung I'm dead`  
`≫you're way too hot for 7am`  
`≫your face isn't even puffy or anything`  
`≫so unfair`

It's becoming almost normal for Minseok to start his day wearing a hint of a smile.

He answers Jongdae's evening selfie—of the beta smushing his smiling face against a teddy bear wearing a KISS T-shirt—with another one of his own, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.  Just as this morning, he's careful to duck his chin to ensure his neck isn't visible, and he filters the photo into monochrome again before sending it off.

####       `≫hyung if you send a man a photo like this`  
`≫where you're puckering your lips around something`  
`≫and you have white foam at the corner of your mouth`  
`≫he's going to get ideas`

Minseok’s elevated brows slide down over a smirk.  He'd meant to bore the beta with the mundanity of his bedtime routine, but this works, too.  His rut is coming up in a few weeks, and it's not like he has omegas lining up at his door. If Jongdae is so determined to make a place for himself in Minseok's life, the alpha certainly wouldn't mind making a place for the boy in his bed.  

Except it’s a foolish hope the beta would be interested without a bribe, and Minseok has had more than enough of that sort of arrangement. But Jongdae had been the one to steer the conversation in this direction, hadn’t he?  Wanting clarification, Minseok taps against his phone as he finishes brushing his teeth with the other hand.

####      `≪ _What kind of ideas?_`

####       `≫the kind you shouldn't encourage`  
`≫if you aren't interested in being more than friends`

Well, that seems pretty clear.  

Minseok shakes his head at his racing heart.  This beta. Minseok wasn't aware that they were friends in the first place, but a solo rut, while endurable, certainly isn’t fun.  It wouldn’t hurt to just ask, would it?

Despite what Huī Láng had said before trying to kill him, Minseok has always tried to comport himself with honor and transparency.  So after he spits and rinses, he makes himself plain.

####       `≪ _I still don't get why you even want to associate yourself with me at all._`  
`≪ _But my rut usually starts around the beginning of next month,_`  
`≪ _So I wouldn't mind a fuckbuddy, at least for that week._`  
`≪ _I know how to please a partner, even during rut,_`  
`≪ _And a cute little beta is much more appealing than my own hand._`

That should make it clear that the alpha isn't asking for emotions or attachment, just physical release, and that he’s willing and able to reciprocate.  And Minseok is _very_ able—since he knew from the beginning that he’d never attract a rut partner via his looks, he’d endeavored to learn every trick in the book to please a partner, male or female.  He’s sure he can take this little beta apart if given half an opportunity.

There’s no reply for long enough that Minseok starts to kick himself for being so forward.  Perhaps “more than friends” had only meant that the kid is willing to flirt over text, not that he’d let Minseok touch him in person.  Or maybe Jongdae’s “ideas” had merely referred to the oral sex the toothbrush photo had evidently inspired, and he’d rather not go all the way.  Or maybe the kid gets off on the idea of making the alpha his little bitch—most betas are versatile lovers, but perhaps this one is a hard top. Or maybe—

The buzzing of his phone interrupts Minseok’s increasingly-regretful thoughts.

####      `≫whoa shit just got real`

Minseok takes a deep breath, expecting Jongdae to follow that up with something about not actually wanting to bottom or needing time to think about things or that he’s saving himself for his true mate.  But instead, Minseok immediately gets,

####      `≫hyung called me cute!`

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

The next morning Jongdae ups the ante, skipping any greeting at all and sending Minseok a photo of himself sprawled shirtless against the sheets.  He's lying on his stomach but Minseok is still treated to a nice view of a rounded deltoid and a slender waist, all that skin gleaming pale gold against white sheets in the diffuse morning light.  The smile isn't in evidence for once, just black fringe feathered above black eyes peering at the camera over a toned bicep.

Yep.  This little snack will do nicely for his upcoming rut.  This unprompted semi-nude selfie seems like pretty definitive proof of the beta’s interest, but then, all his previous rut partners had fooled him, too.  Alphas in rut aren’t exactly known for being the most observant lovers, after all.

 _Someone’s got to be paying him,_ his cynicism declares, but that doesn’t stop the alpha’s usual lazy morning arousal from sharpening at the promise in those intense black eyes.  If the beta is as hungry as the selfie makes him look, further whetting Jongdae’s appetite with a sneak preview seems like the prudent thing to do.

Feeling his cock twitch beneath the sheets at the thought, Minseok responds with,

####      `≪ _You asked for this:_`

Then Minseok shoves the sheets down to puddle around his hips, letting the cobalt blue fabric catch against and outline the selfie-enhanced morning erection at attention along a v-line.  He leaves the other side of his abs exposed to the top of his thigh, revealing just a hint of coarse snow-white hair. Holding his phone up above himself with his right hand, the alpha throws his other arm across his throat, hooks his chin over his bicep, and flexes everything, letting the horizontal light from his unshaded window throw all his hard-earned muscles into relief.

Making sure everything is framed nicely, he closes his eyes before he takes the shot, treating Jongdae to a full-color photograph this time since his self-conscious flush adds a nice glow to his cheeks.

####       `≫holy fucking hotness`  
`≫ok you win`  
`≫I am s.e.d.u.c.e.d`

Satisfied, Minseok grins.  Evidently his hard body still has some appeal if he keeps his eyes closed and his chin tucked.  His mind immediately begins cataloguing all the positions in which he can get his dick in the cute little beta’s cute little ass while concealing his own boner-killing flaws.  He gets up and starts to make the bed, contemplating if it would be too weird to wear sunglasses and/or a scarf while fucking. Maybe a broad leather choker would be better?

His phone interrupts his thoughts when it vibrates again.

####       `≫hyung half the pack piled into my room to see why I was screaming`  
`≫can I show them my cause of death?`

Minseok considers whether he wants a bunch of strangers to objectify him, then shakes his head at himself.  People judge him for his appearance all day every day as it is. Might as well be for looking sexy rather than creepy for once.

####      `≪ _Sure._`

And then, emboldened by this affirmation of his sex appeal, he dares to provoke the excitable beta.

####      `≪ _Be sure to mention my upcoming rut._  
`≪ _I'm still accepting fuckbuddy applications._``

``

The response is immediate.

####       `≫no`  
`≫no you are not`  
`≫the fuckbuddy position has been filled`  
`≫all those muscles are all for me`

Minseok chuckles to himself.  Teasing this beta is so much fun.  Hopefully fucking him will be just as enjoyable.  It would be nice to have a rut that doesn’t suck.

He doesn't hear anything from Jongdae for over an hour, but his phone buzzes against his thigh on his way to class.

####       `≫hyung those heathens stole my phone`  
`≫there was a lot of screaming`  
`≫when I finally got my phone back`  
`≫your pic was set as my lock screen`

Minseok smiles down at his phone.  His own lock screen is currently a photo he'd taken long ago of the Beijing skyline at night, generic enough to be mistaken for the phone’s default screen.  But after the Justice, it had hurt too much to constantly see photographic proof of his own willing ignorance in the image of his stupidly-lovesick self staring adoringly at the man he’d later kill.  

Huī Láng hadn’t even been looking back at him in the picture Minseok had once found so precious.  Instead, his enigmatic little smile had been aimed at the packmate taking the photo, and after the Justice had opened Minseok’s eyes, the pack leader’s face no longer seems coy.  His ethereal beauty still gives Minseok’s gut a twist whenever he tortures himself by looking at the image, but now that perfect face seems to display smug mockery of the dumb little albino that had obviously meant so little to the popular pack leader.

But in this morning’s sinful selfie, Jongdae’s handsome face displays blatant lust and he’d taken the provocative photo just for Minseok.  The hot desire in those dark eyes isn’t aimed at anyone but him, and every time he’d given in to the urge to gaze at the photo since the boy had sent it, Minseok’s stomach had flipped with anticipation.

So he pulls up his new favorite image once again, and this time he makes sure it will remain readily visible before replying to the beta’s texts.

####       `≪ _That's a good idea, actually._`  
`≪ _Flirty, half-naked beta as wallpaper:  Check._`

####       `≫I'm glad you think so`  
`≫because I know for a fact your photo is also the wallpaper for both our omegas`  
`≫and at least half the other betas`  
`≫and even our alpha maknae`  
`≫and I didn't even say anything about your rut`

Minseok shakes his head and huffs out a chuckle.  The guy walking next to him startles at the sound, turning his head in Minseok’s direction just in time to step into the doorframe instead of through the door as Minseok enters the engineering building.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

At lunch, Jongdae is super blushy and strangely quiet.  He still greets Minseok and tells him all about his morning classes, but there are long pauses where the beta just holds his food halfway to his mouth and stares at Minseok.

Finally, Jongdae blurts, "Hyung, do you like my scent?”

Minseok flicks his narrowed eyes sideways to regard the beta beside him.  Jongdae’s usual smile is a bit tentative, and something twinges inside the alpha at the bubbly beta’s dampened demeanor.  

He gives the kid a nod, smiling to show his sincerity.  The beta smells sharp and clean—what’s not to like? It’s actually the nicest scent Minseok has encountered in quite a while.

“Really?”

Minseok nods again.  

Jongdae’s shoulders drop from around his ears and his curled-up lips unfold to their usual position beneath chiseled cheekbones.  “Then… let's go on a date Friday night." The kid’s smile may be back, but his onyx eyes are still a little shy.

The alpha considers.  He doesn't really _do_ dates.  All his previous sexual encounters have been the result of excess hormones on someone's part, making any relationship between the two entirely circumstantial and lasting only as long as their heat or his rut.  But this beta declared himself "seduced" this morning, hadn’t he? Maybe he wants to get the party started early or something. Though if that's the case, why isn't he just asking for a booty call? Not that Minseok’s ever had one of those either.

Jongdae’s laugh is buoyant.  "Hyung, don't look at me like I'm trying to lure you into some sort of trap.  It's just going to be weird to show up at your door and spend several days letting you fuck me raw without ever having really touched each other beforehand, right?"

Minseok just blinks at the beta.  That’s how things had always worked for him before.  Are things that different in Korea?

Chuckling at whatever face Minseok is making, Jongdae continues.  "We don't have to do anything sappy, Hyung. We could just walk around and eat a bunch of street food by the river or something, maybe hold hands a little, do a little making out."

That sounds pretty damn sappy to Minseok.  But then a flash of shame washes over him as he remembers that he’s never had a truly voluntary rut partner before.  This isn’t a business transaction, it’s social interaction, and that has never been Minseok’s forte. Faced with navigating this new obstacle course on his own without a map, Minseok considers retracting his fuckbuddy request.

Huī Láng had always arranged things for Minseok in the past, finding an apparently-willing pack member or two to be available to satisfy his albino pet when needed.  However, when Minseok had eventually discovered that these arrangements were facilitated by bribes or threats, he'd refused Huī Láng's assistance and started handling his ruts alone.  He wasn't willing to inflict himself on someone who wasn't interested without coercion.

But Jongdae seems plenty interested, and a date is at least a form of expected, socially-acceptable coercion.  At the mercy of that hopeful face, the alpha nods his agreement to the proposed date. Then he freezes solid in shock when the cheering beta throws his arms around Minseok's shoulders and stamps a quick peck against his cheek, engulfing him in a cloud of bright metallic scent.

"I know you're new in town, so I can plan things if it won't hurt your manly alpha pride," Jongdae offers after taking his arms back to himself.

Still stunned by the sudden act of affection, Minseok can only shrug and nod and stare at his empty lunch tray.  This beta. Failing to run him off months ago sometimes seems like a huge mistake.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Jongdae evidently doesn't think sticking around is a mistake.  His evening selfie on Thursday is downright sinful, shot in a bathroom mirror still steamed at the corners, reflecting the beta flushed from a hot shower.  His dripping hair is falling into his face but failing to obscure the heat in those molten eyes. There's an invitation in those parted pink lips, and an extremely precarious towel around Jongdae's narrow hips trying (and mostly failing) to keep the image from being pornographic.

It certainly doesn't help that Jongdae's lean-but-toned torso is incredibly edible.  Or that the hand not holding up the phone is instead splayed flat against his pec, dusky nipple framed by rough, masculine fingers.

It takes rather a long time before Minseok can be bothered to read the accompanying text message.

####      `≫hyung are you excited for our date tomorrow?`

Minseok chews his lip.  He may as well own up to his lack of expertise in the area now because he's not going to be able to easily explain himself in situ.

####       `≪ _I've never done the dating thing before._`  
`≪ _So if I don't do whatever an alpha's supposed to do tomorrow,_`  
`≪ _I'd like to state for the record that it's definitely not because I don't find you incredibly fuckable._`

The reply is waiting for him when he steps out of his own shower.

####       `≫hyung is that what you think dates are for`  
`≫to prove to someone that you want to get naked with them?`

Minseok frowns, uncomfortable at the suspicion he's lacking an important alpha skill.

####       `≪ _Well, I've never been on one._`  
`≪ _I watch variety shows, not dramas._`  
`≪ _I prefer movies where things explode or people die rather than ones with love scenes._`  
`≪ _But I've still managed to get the impression that dates are basically foreplay,_`  
`≪ _And if I were trying to get a boyfriend rather than a fuckbuddy,_`  
`≪ _I'd have to endure three of them before we could get down to business._`

Minseok sets about towel-drying his hair, pausing when his phone buzzes on the bathroom counter.

####      `≫hyung you have a very cynical view of the world`

####       `≪ _Why shouldn't I?_`  
`≪ _The world has a very cynical view of me._`

####       `≫oh boo hoo`  
`≫quit feeling sorry for yourself and send me a selfie`

Minseok scowls at the beta's cheek, but then he smirks.  If Jongdae likes cheek, Minseok will give him cheek.

It takes him a few minutes to get the perfect shot, but eventually he sends off what Jongdae demanded.  It's in black and white again, taken in front of the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. He's got his back to the mirror, torso turned a little as he gazes over his shoulder, throat hidden by the well-developed deltoid on the arm holding up his phone.  His other arm is bent, hand resting on the nape of his neck, showing off the muscles of his arm and back. The muscles of his lower body are flexed, too, because they're entirely on display.

####      `≫what an ass`

####      `≪ _Are you complimenting my body or insulting my character?_`

####      `≫yes`

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

On Friday afternoon Minseok waits for Jongdae outside the performing arts building, leaning against the trunk of a leafy oak in a gray hoodie and black track pants.  He's got the hood up even though he's under the tree and he's got his sunglasses on. His hands are tucked into the kangaroo pocket that holds everything he hopes he'll need for the next several hours.

Thus shaded, Minseok enjoys several minutes of managing not to freak out the general public.  He still gets some double-takes, but they're followed by flirty once-overs instead of frowns or sneers, which is a pleasant alteration to the usual routine.  He even gets a few smiles and nods of greeting, and twice he gets an actual "hello" that he of course can only return with a nod, but he at least adds a sheepish smile.

Nobody seems to recognize Minseok as That Murdering Albino Freak, and it’s really fucking nice.  It kind of makes him want to become one of those douchecanoes that wears sunglasses inside, or maybe invest in some colored contacts, hair dye, and pigmented BB cream.  But then he remembers that he doesn't care what people think about him, that he has no one to impress, that his only family is dead by his own fangs, and that once he graduates he'll be just another faceless drone in a cube farm somewhere, drawing someone else's plans in a computer for a mediocre paycheck that will hopefully be enough to keep him in good whiskey.

Some divine fate that'll be.

It's probably best for the tone of this date that Jongdae comes bouncing out of the building before Minseok has any more time to contemplate his depressing future.

It’s hard to be depressed with a grinning ball of energy skipping towards him, looking stupidly adorable in blue skinny jeans and a hoodie of his own.  The soft-looking sweatshirt is a yellow as cheery as the beta’s smile, and it’s too big for the boy’s slender frame, swallowing him to the hips and making his fingers peek out from the cuffs of his sleeves.  The hood flops merrily up and down as the beta scampers up, and his bangs are falling into his face in a way that makes Minseok’s fingers twitch with the urge to brush the probably-silky strands away from eyes currently curved into crescents.

This kid really is way too fucking cute.  Minseok finds his lips tugging into a welcoming smile without his permission, a once-strange feeling that is becoming more and more familiar these days, damn the boy.

"Hyung!" Jongdae cheers, dropping his bag and all but tackling Minseok to tap his lips fleetingly against the alpha's cheek and drown him in that sharp, sanitized scent.  But then Jongdae frowns, hands still drifting down the front of Minseok's hoodie.

"I wish you wouldn't hide your eyes all the time.  I'm on to you, with your black and white filters and now these sunglasses."  He reaches to take them off, but Minseok dodges the attempt, pulling a notepad out of his kangaroo pocket along with a pen.

 _Since my eyes have no pigment, they're really sensitive to light,_ he scribbles, followed by, _If you want, I'll take them off once the sun goes down._

Jongdae has been leaning over his shoulder as he writes, and he lifts a mollified smile to Minseok's face.  "I do want," he says. "I'm not going to pin an undercover agent against a lamppost to make out. I like to be able to see the guy I'm kissing."

Minseok snorts, tucking the notepad away and stepping forward to shoulder Jongdae's abandoned backpack.  Alphas are naturally stronger, so they're supposed to carry shit for people, right?

The beta doesn't say anything about the bag, but that might be because he's distracted by something else.

"I'm always so surprised when you make any noise, but you're not completely silent, are you?  I mean, I've heard you sigh and snort—is that your entire audible repertoire?" Jongdae starts walking toward the river.

Minseok shrugs as he strolls beside the beta.  He tsks, clicks his tongue, blows a raspberry, then puckers his lips and whistles the first few measures of one of Jongdae's songs.  And then, at the beta's suddenly up-kipped eyebrows, he releases a breathy, voiceless chuckle.

This display of mirth makes the beta give him the shiniest goo-goo eyes Minseok has ever seen in the absence of some precious baby animal.  Jongdae's lips are an O of delight, upturned corners distorting the shape into the start of a smile.

Minseok's instinct is to roll his eyes at the overawed boy, but with the sunglasses making the gesture meaningless, he settles for an exaggerated sigh.

But that makes Jongdae's eyebrows draw down in censure.  "You're really expressive when you want to be," he accuses.  "It's not just that you _can't_ talk to people—you don't even _want_ to, do you?"

There's no sense in denying it, so Minseok shakes his head.

"Do you really hate all of us so much?" Jongdae asks, eyes soft.

Minseok shakes his head again, digging his notepad back out of his pouch and stepping out of the flow of pedestrians.   _I don't hate anyone,_ he writes as Jongdae watches.  

"Then why don't you want to make friends?"

Pursing his lips at Jongdae, Minseok flips to a clean page.   _Five months ago I killed the only person I've ever loved,_ Minseok writes.   _How fucking sociable would_ _you_ _feel after that?_

He waits for Jongdae to yell at him for feeling sorry for himself or perhaps for driving people away that wanted to be friends, ready to endure the lecture regardless of the fact that there hadn't been anyone to drive away.  He hadn't realized it until Huī Láng had accepted the accusations against Minseok without even a token protest, but he's always been a lone wolf, without family, without friends, without a pack. Recent events have merely made that reality painfully obvious.

But Jongdae doesn't lecture him.  Instead, he pulls a stunned Minseok into a hug, wrapping him up in sturdy, secure arms.  It's really strange to be held onto by someone he isn't actively fucking, someone who isn't driven to cling to him by an excess of omega hormones as his knot swells inside them.  Jongdae has clothes on, isn't hormonal, is touching Minseok with affection in public where anyone could see, and not just for some empathy-demonstrating publicity photos, like the old lock-screen image Minseok had once believed to represent true affection.

Minseok cringes internally when he remembers how much he had lived for those moments, when he'd still believed the man he loved was actually proud of him, had genuinely cared about him, even if the pack leader’s feelings didn't run as deeply as Minseok's own.  Turns out, Huī Láng's feelings for him couldn't have been more superficial, if not entirely manufactured.

But Jongdae's feelings certainly seem to be genuine, and Minseok stands, frozen, as the beta murmurs in his ear.

"I'm sorry that you were forced to do that, but I'm happy that you survived.  And I’m happy that you moved here—you deserve to live and be happy and be cared for, just like anyone else, and if your old pack didn't see that, then you're better off without them."

This beta.  How is a lifelong pariah supposed to deal with all this ready acceptance?  

Jongdae releases Minseok's torso in favor of resting a firm hand on each of the alpha's shoulders.  "But that doesn't mean you have to be _alone,_ Hyung.  I know basically everybody, so if you get tired of being so solitary, I can be your personal friend-finder."

Jongdae nods at him as if settling an important issue, then takes Minseok's hand and leads him toward the river once again.  He doesn't say anything else for several long minutes, which is just as well because Minseok spends that time staring down at their interlocked hands, unsure if he's comforted or inconvenienced by this monopolizing of his arm.  He ultimately decides that his rarely-fed possessive alpha instincts are enjoying having this tangible reassurance that his potential rut partner will remain in close proximity, but that the next time Jongdae grabs him like this, he'll try to get the beta to capture Minseok's left hand instead.

At least the beta leads him right to a food cart.  Minseok's nose prompts him to let go of the beta and fill his hands with beef skewers, prompting Jongdae to laugh at the alpha's eagerness.

"We'll visit lots of carts, Hyung," the beta grins.  "This is far from your only chance to fill your belly."

Minseok would snark that it takes a lot of protein to keep up all the muscles Jongdae seems to like, but his hands are full so he can't scribble on his notepad.  So instead he just smirks a little around the beef in his mouth, holding out his other pawful of skewers toward the beta. He lifts a brow above his sunglasses in invitation.  Alphas are supposed to feed their partners, he's pretty sure.

But Jongdae just snickers, selecting his own assortment of skewers, foolishly including a few with _vegetables._  Minseok curls a lip in exaggerated disgust as Jongdae hums happily around a grilled radish, earning an eye roll.

But Minseok's displeasure is real when the skewers are empty and Jongdae counts them up before pulling his wallet out of his pocket.  The alpha may live off scholarships but he also lives incredibly modestly, the occasional bottle of whiskey being his only indulgence.  His savings account has never been more full and paying for things is surely the alpha’s job. Minseok reaches for the beta's wrist, but Jongdae pulls away.

"Don't give me that provider-alpha bull," the beta says.  "I invited you, so I'll pay."

Minseok frowns as Jongdae completes the transaction, chatting with the vendor and complimenting the food.  The alpha has no idea how to treat a partner outside the bedroom aside from keeping an in-heat omega clean and hydrated.  But Jongdae isn't an omega, and he evidently doesn't want to be coddled.

This whole dating thing is turning out to be fucking _hard._

Luckily for his ego, when Minseok tentatively offers his left hand to the beta, Jongdae takes hold of it with a grin that blooms into laughter at the alpha's relieved sigh.

"You're so cute, Hyung.  You're doing fine. Don't overthink it—we're just two dudes hanging out, stuffing our faces and getting handsy, right?"  He squeezes Minseok's hand for emphasis.

Minseok looks down at their hands, then back up at the beta's smiling face.  If Jongdae wants to be treated like a bro and get felt up, Minseok can do that.  He gives the beta a sheepish smile and a more-confident nod.

Jongdae beams.  "So, what do you want to eat next?"

Minseok tugs him toward a seafood stand, enjoying the beta's delighted laughter at his enthusiasm.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

It's surprisingly easy to hang out with Jongdae, wandering from cart to cart along the river and stuffing their faces as planned.  Minseok isn't sure if that's because being sociable isn't as difficult as he remembers or if it's Jongdae that makes it easy. It is still a bit stressful, though, as Minseok feels long-ignored instincts nudge their way to the surface where he has to decide whether to act on them or shove them back down.

He learns that Jongdae will let the alpha hand-feed him, but only if he gets to hand-feed Minseok in turn, which both satisfies and offends his "provider-alpha" urges.   He discovers that he's fine with holding hands, but his protective-alpha instincts _really_ like when he works up the nerve to throw his arm around Jongdae's shoulders, pressing the beta close against his body where Minseok feels like he can guard him from rivals and protect him from threats (not that Jongdae actually needs either).  He expects to feel coddled when Jongdae takes advantage of Minseok's full hands to do the same thing to him at the next food cart, but instead, his instincts are satisfied that this potential rut partner is attracted to him enough to cling to his body, and he finds himself flexing his trapezius beneath Jongdae's arm in the hopes of continuing to impress the beta with his physique.

It's also strangely surreal to be in his usual position of agreeably following another's suggestions, even though Jongdae is an excitable, let's-try-everything sort of beta, rather than an image-conscious, let's-impress-people sort of alpha like Huī Láng.  He doesn't quite realize that he's fallen into his habitual role until Jongdae suggests that they try a particular cart, and Minseok nods even though he doesn't like grilled squid. Jongdae hands him a skewer and Minseok smiles before taking an obligatory bite, still smiling around the mouthful of the rubbery substance, and smiling wider after he swallows it down to prove to Huī Láng Jongdae that he'd enjoyed the food he'd bought for him—only to find Jongdae staring at him with an odd expression.

"Well, that was fucking painful to watch," the beta declares with a wry chuckle.  "I’ve been trying to impress you for weeks and the biggest grin you give me is a cover-up for a grimace.”  

Minseok blinks, stunned by the beta's observation skills.  Nobody had ever noticed whether his smile was real or not before, or if they had, they hadn't cared.  

“I’m not going to get mad if you don’t end up liking all my favorites,” Jongdae huffs through an apologetic smile.  “Texture catch you off guard?”

Minseok sheepishly shakes his head.  

“So the flavor was the surprising part?”

Minseok shakes his head again.

The beta’s brow furrows as he tilts his head at Minseok.  “Wait, have you had grilled squid before?”

Minseok considers lying, but decides he can't claim the moral high ground of assuming Jongdae is waiting to play him false if Minseok isn't truthful himself.  He slowly nods his head.

Jongdae gapes at him.  "So you knew you didn't like it but still took the skewer I offered you, ate it without hesitation, and pretended to enjoy it?"

Biting his lower lip, Minseok nods again.  

“Wh— Why would you do that?” Jongdae asks, expressive brows undulating in confusion.

Minseok shrugs.

The beta’s expression sharpens into hard lines.  “Do you think you have to lick my boots to get me to be your rut partner?  That I’m the kind of guy who trades sexual favors for ego boosts?”

Minseok grimaces, slowly shaking his head.  This does not look good. Jongdae is starting to smell upset.   

“Then what, you’re just going to tell me you’re always like this?”

Minseok nods, less afraid of admitting his shameful habits than he is of offending Jongdae even if he knows he’s already lost his chance with the beta.  

Some desperate possessive-alpha instinct makes him reach for Jongdae's hand in what he already knows is a futile attempt to keep his lovely potential rut partner from stomping off in disgust.  But he second-guesses (and third and fourth and fifth) whether physical contact would be welcome, making him look like a stop-motion video as he stretches his arm toward the beta in odd staccato bursts.

Jongdae lifts his narrowed eyes from Minseok's juddering arm up to his face, making Minseok drop the limb and duck his head in an automatic attempt at appeasement.  When nothing happens for a few moments, the alpha lifts his gaze again to discover Jongdae staring at him oddly.

Despite the crowd all around them, the world between Minseok and Jongdae is silent and still for another pair of heartbeats.

"What the fuck did they do to you, Hyung?" Jongdae finally murmurs.

He takes the skewer out of Minseok's hand and shoves the rest of the squid into his own mouth.  Chewing angrily, he grabs Minseok's hand so tight it almost hurts, then strides over to a bench basking in a streetlight's halo, all but shoving Minseok down in the pool of light before taking a seat on the rough wood beside him.

Face stern, Jongdae shifts to face the wary alpha.  "Sunglasses off. Notepad out. If I'm going to let a hormonal, instinct-drunk alpha have his way with me, I need to know enough about you to avoid stepping on any landmines during the process.  I'm going to ask and you're going to answer, even if it's just to tell me it's too personal. But I’ve never been with an alpha in rut, so if I don't feel safe, it's going to be you and your hand during yours.  It's in your dick's best interests to answer me."

Minseok snorts but nods.  The beta's demands are entirely fair.  Helping an omega in heat might result in some scratches down the back, bite marks on the chest, and an awkward-if-unwanted sense of strong emotional connection.  But bottoming for an unknown alpha in rut could result in serious physical trauma or even death if said alpha freaks the fuck out and rejects their partner after the tie.

Minseok's never hurt a partner, never even come close, but Jongdae doesn't know that, and Minseok hasn't exactly demonstrated himself to be what an outsider might call "stable."  If he wants an actual, enthusiastic rut partner for the first time in his entire life—and he very much does—Minseok needs to suck it up and spit it out. Or at least write it down.

Seeing as it's dark enough for the streetlamp to be spotlighting their little bench, Minseok willingly tugs his sunglasses off as a demonstration of his sincerity.  He watches the beta face him down, bold as thunder, fierce as lightning, flooding the air around them with his irked electric scent.

"Do you know that you're the most powerful alpha I've ever met?" Jongdae begins.  "Not just your scent, but your aura, your physical strength, everything. You can't even growl, and you almost had me on the floor, neck up, with just a glare the day we met."

Minseok nods.

"You froze both our alphas that day, too."

Minseok nods again.  This isn't news to him.  He's been clearly stronger than any other alpha he's ever met himself.  It's as if the lupine gods had decided to make up for his absence of pigment by giving him a plethora of power.

"Yet all evening long, I've watched you submit, watched you deliberately override your natural instincts.  In the cafeteria you always radiate big dick energy, so why are you so meek now? Is it like a kink or something?”

Minseok shakes his head, scribbling on the pad before angling it so Jongdae can see.   _I’m sorry.  It’s a long-time habit._

“From what?” Jongdae demands to know.  “Why the fuck would a badass like you make a habit of submitting to anyone?”

 _Huī Láng didn’t like to be challenged,_ Minseok writes, drowning in the beta’s censure.   _So I learned how not to make him uncomfortable._

“Okay, but there’s a difference between being non-threatening and being someone’s little bitch,” Jongdae sneers.  “Why the fuck would you let him subjugate you like that?”

Minseok shrugs.   _I loved him,_ he reminds the beta.  

“Why?” Jongdae asks in the same sort of tone someone might question the motivation to eat rancid shit.  “I mean, the guy was pretty, but this makes him sound like an insecure, envious asshole.”

 _He was,_ Minseok admits.   _But he was also kind to me when no one else was.  I didn’t mind feeding his ego in return._  It was easy enough to do—by the time he’d met Huī Láng, he was already damn good at swallowing indignity.  Giving up his already-smothered agency seemed like a small price to pay for acceptance and affection.

And even knowing that the acceptance and affection were imaginary, the albino child Minseok used to be would still have made the same choice.  He’s not sure he’d have survived school—in the probably-would-have-killed-himself sort of way—without Huī Láng. It’s hard enough to be a lone wolf as an adult.  It’s absolute misery for a child.

Jongdae is making a strange sort of twisted expression, and Minseok knows that’s the end of this nice little dream.  The alpha squelches his disappointment, pasting on a little smile. _I know it’s unnatural,_ he writes.   _I don’t blame you if you can’t understand._

Leaving the still-speechless beta holding the notepad, Minseok shoves both hands into his kangaroo pocket and makes to stand up, not wanting to further waste Jongdae’s time.  But Jongdae reaches out to snag Minseok’s elbow, tugging him back down and shoving the pad of paper against the alpha’s chest.

“Then make me understand,” Jongdae demands, voice hard but eyes soft.

Minseok takes the notepad back and does as he's told.

He writes it all, starting from the very beginning.  How when he was born bloodlessly-white with a caul over his face the midwife had assumed him stillborn until he opened his crimson eyes and wailed, knocking her to her knees with his alpha's power even then.  How his father had accused his mother of sleeping with the devil to give birth to such a demon, had attempted to smother him except his mother intervened. His father had left, and twelve hours later his mother's maternal hormones had been overcome by revulsion at her child and herself.  Still unable to kill her own offspring, she'd instead left him in a "baby box" at a local church, hoping that being raised in the triune faith would redeem her ghastly son.

And then she'd jumped from the church's bell tower to her death.  

The note she'd left pinned to her baby revealed his name, parentage, and eerie history along with a hope for her own soul to descend to hell to ransom her child's, but Minseok was still bloodlessly white even after his mother's broken body had bled out.

The nuns had tried to raise him, but he'd freaked them out too much.  None of the wet nurses would have him, so he was quickly turned over to the monks, who raised him on formula and laid him on the altar and prayed over him a lot.  He doesn't remember the formula, but he does remember the praying, because it continued through the age where he'd pull himself up onto the holy stone and lay supine while the brothers tried to save his apparently-uncooperative soul.

They’d shipped him off to a church-run boarding school in China as soon as he was old enough.

The monks there had evidently figured him a mostly-lost cause, because he was shunned instead of being subjected to more salvation attempts.  Still, young Minseok had learned well despite the isolation and the language barrier, picking up the foreign tongue quickly. By the time he'd been in Beijing for three years, he was consistently scoring at the top of his class, which further fueled the rumors that he was actually the devil in disguise.

His early life had been miserable and cold, with each group of failed caretakers passing his mother's damning suicide note along to the next so everyone would know from the beginning how ill-omened he was.

And then Huī Láng had arrived.

He'd been kind to Minseok, born in the same year, and had stood up for him against bullies and saved him a seat at the lunch table.  He'd talked to Minseok, paid attention to what he said, remembered what he was interested in, and encouraged his talents.

 _He taught me to sing,_ Minseok writes.   _He convinced the brothers that if I could sing like an angel, I couldn't possibly be the devil, that if I could perform the holy liturgies so beautifully, I must not be damned._

And it had worked, sort of.  He'd been allowed to join the choir, but slowly all the other boys quit, leaving Minseok and Huī Láng to sing the services alone.  Huī Láng had been upset by the other children's abandonment, until he realized he got so much more praise and attention for being a better singer than That Creepy Little Ghoul, and also for being brave enough to actually touch and talk to said ghoul.

 _I think that's when he first figured it out,_ Minseok pens.   _Being my genuine friend wasn't nearly as rewarding as using me and using our relationship to gain attention from others.  But I didn’t realize that for far too long. I was just so happy to finally have someone seem to care about me._

Jongdae frowns.  “So, you’re telling me the most powerful alpha pup in all the land was willing to bend his neck to the first kid that was brave enough to talk to the foreign boy?”

 _Not first,_ Minseok corrects.   _Only.  Even the teachers avoided interacting with me as much as possible._  The alpha offers a wry grin.   _You think I’m quiet now, but once, about a year before Huī Láng arrived, I decided not to speak until someone spoke directly to me first.  Guess how long it took for me to say another word?_

Jongdae’s eyes go soft.  “Hyung, I couldn’t last an hour.”

Minseok gives the talkative boy a little smile.   _Try three and a half weeks._

Jongdae’s face freezes, so Minseok continues.   _It probably would have been longer, but one day a kid tripped me on the way into the classroom.  I was carrying my stack of books, and landing on them face-first gave me a nosebleed. The teacher told me to stop disrupting class and go sit in the hall._

Jongdae inhales sharply, one hand flying up to cover his gaping lips as Minseok continues to write.

_I excused myself, gathered my bloody books, and left the room.  I sat in the hall all day covered in blood, and had to scrub toilets every day for two months to pay for the books and uniform I’d ruined._

"Hyung," Jongdae says from behind his hand, eyebrows crooked below a furrowed brow.  "I take back all my judgment of you being emo. If you want to start a whiny, self-indulgent band, I'll totally support you.  I'll even learn to play the guitar or something."

Minseok’s smile blossoms at the thought, and his pen races over a new page.   _You'll also have to be the lead singer,_ he points out.   _I think I'd enjoy being a brooding bassist.  I hear they get all the backstage action._

Jongdae slugs him in the shoulder.  "Alphas, always thinking with their knot," he chides with a smile.  Then he ducks his chin, letting those long dark lashes splay against chiseled cheeks.  "Speaking of knots, I’m more than a little intimidated by the thought of yours.”

The alpha smirks.  This beta. He can’t be so sassy and then expect Minseok to believe he’s actually shy.  Still, the alpha’s instincts scream at him to reassure the boy, both to secure him as a rut partner and to bring back that flirty smile.

 _You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,_ he writes.   _But you may want to consider that it tends to apply pressure straight to a guy’s sweet spot._

He hands the pad to the lap-gazing beta, and a moment later those seductive lashes sweep up along with the inner ends of his brows.  “Oh, I’ll take it. I’m sure it’ll be awesome at the time. I’m just a little worried about… the aftermath.”

Minseok shrugs, taking the pad back.   _It’s not so bad if the alpha knows what they’re doing._ And if the alpha isn’t a sadist, of course.

Jongdae laughs.  “Are you speaking from experience?” he teases.

He knows the beta is just joking, but Minseok nods anyway.  He wants Jongdae to know he truly understands what it’s like on the other end; that he won’t do anything to hurt him.

But the beta just gapes, leaning back to better blink those dark eyes at the unashamed alpha.  “Wait, really?”

Minseok nods again.

“So you didn’t just love Huī Láng like a brother—you were lovers?”

The alpha shakes his head, writing as he does.   _He didn’t return my feelings.  He just liked to spend his rut with me._  And dumb little Minseok had fucking loved it, even if Huī Láng was always rather rough with him and he’d said such degrading things.  It had still felt like the ultimate form of acceptance that he could want Minseok like that; that he’d let the albino’s unholy flesh touch his beautiful, perfect body.

Jongdae’s face warps.  “That still makes me a replacement for your lifelong love!  How’s a guy supposed to live up to that? Or maybe I’m just a warm hole to you?”  The beta’s scent again carries an unpleasant taint.

Minseok shakes his head and purses his lips, scribbling quickly in the hope that the beta won’t bail.   _You’re not a replacement for anybody.  He never spent my rut with me. He only ever wanted me during his own.  The rest of the year, he had half the pack hanging off his dick._

Jongdae snorts.  “So I just have to live up to the other half of the pack, is that it?  You each had your own little harem?”

Minseok shakes his head again, but his lips relax at the slight tone of amusement in Jongdae’s voice.   _They only wanted me when they were in heat and Huī Láng had rejected them.  He found hormonal omegas too needy and clingy, so he sent them to me._

Jongdae frowns.  "So, you've never had sex where someone wasn't hormonal as fuck?"

The alpha shakes his head.  

Jongdae gapes.  "Not even once?"

Minseok shrugs.   _I'm happy not to still be a virgin,_ he writes.   _I'm certainly not going to complain about the circumstances._

But the beta is frowning again.  “So, you’re used to spending your rut with an in-heat omega?  I can’t keep up with that.”

Minseok shakes his head again.   _I haven’t spent my rut with anyone in years,_ he scrawls. _You have zero competition._  Hell, all the beta would have to do is sit there and let Minseok inhale his static-y copper scent while he touched himself and it would still be the least awful rut he’s ever had, including the ones where he’d actually knotted somebody.

The beta stares at Minseok, mouth wide.  “You’ve been spending your ruts _alone?_ ”

Minseok just shrugs as he moves the pen.   _It's less than a week, twice a year.  It only_ _feels_ _like you're gonna die if you don't fuck.  Flying solo doesn't_ _actually_ _kill you.  Alphas are just wimps._

"But why would you do that to yourself?" Jongdae asks, looking a little green.   

Minseok narrows his eyes as he writes.   _Nobody but Huī Láng ever wanted to even share so much as a lunch table with me unless they were trying to curry favor with him.  My ruts weren’t any different._

"I share the lunch table with you," Jongdae points out.  

 _Which is why I'm still not 100% sure you're even real,_ Minseok scrawls with a little smile.

"Oh, I'm _plenty_ real," Jongdae growls.  “But it’s fucking sad that you’ve been conditioned _not_ to be.”

Minseok’s stomach plummets toward his toes, but he manages to keep his face neutral.   _I understand.  It was nice of you to try._

Jongdae’s eyes flick over the page, then up to Minseok’s face, then back to his written words.  “Hyung, that wasn’t a rejection. You really do jump to the worst possible conclusion.”

Minseok shrugs.   _My conclusions have been correct 99% of the time until you sat at my table and smiled at me,_ he writes.   _Now I have no fucking clue what the game is anymore._  

When Minseok dares to drag his gaze from paper to beta, Jongdae is wearing an odd little frown.  “Hyung,” he says, and Minseok kind of hates how much he loves that word on Jongdae’s lips. “I obviously didn’t know the guy—hell, I didn’t even obsessively follow his insta and weibo like one of our omegas did—but Huī Láng sounds like he was an egotistical jerk who basically treated you like a pet.  You’re so fucking powerful, so the only way anyone could keep you at their feet is to make sure you felt like you belonged there.”

Jongdae reaches out the white rubber toe of his canvas sneaker to poke at one of Minseok’s gray trainers.  “I know your childhood didn’t exactly encourage you to think otherwise, but please consider that Huī Láng may have manipulated how you saw yourself and how others saw you, too.  Kids can definitely be cruel, especially when teachers validate that cruelty. But now that you’re an adult out in the real world, I can assure you that people don’t detest you nearly as much as you seem to think they do.”

Minseok frowns.   _I’m the color of death,_ he writes.   _People treat me like a ghost.  Besides you, no one talks to me or even looks at me._

“That’s because you’re a terrifyingly-powerful alpha that stalks around giving everyone death glares,” Jongdae laughs, swatting at Minseok’s knee.  “Of course they’re going to avert their gaze so as not to seem to be challenging you.”

Minseok gives the beta one of those death glares, but Jongdae only rolls his eyes.  “Look—tonight we’ve gone to like a dozen food carts, right? And every one of the vendors smiled at us, didn’t they?”

 _They smiled at_ _you_ _,_ Minseok scribbles.   _And that one lady made the sign of the triskele._

“Ah right, she did.  But even if the others were only smiling at me—which I don’t believe—they did so while I was holding your hand.  And they didn’t, like, go out of their way to scowl at you or anything except for that one grumpy old lady. As someone who tends to be loud as fuck when I’m out with my friends, I can assure you that on this particular date, I have been scowled at far less than usual.”

He grins at Minseok, who is still chewing his lower lip.

“All I’m saying is that maybe if you try not to assume everyone automatically hates you, you might be surprised at how hospitable the world actually is.  I mean, even though most of them think you’re dangerous as fuck, my entire pack is still drooling over you, right? Maybe you were only That Unlucky Albino because that's what Huī Láng made you into, and now that he's gone, you can be That Hot Alpha instead.  Or however else you'd like to present yourself. You can be whoever you truly are, unapologetically."

Minseok looks at the earnest little beta who truly seems to believe it’s that simple.  Maybe for him it is.

But then Minseok remembers the people that had greeted him while he was waiting for Jongdae earlier.  He’d been alone then, so it’s not like they were being polite to anyone else. But Minseok had been relaxed, even a little excited.  He’d felt more like a puppy dog than a pangolin. He hadn’t been defensive, and most people that had passed (and hadn’t been entirely distracted by their phones) had treated Minseok like anyone else.

Perhaps the optimistic little beta is on to something, after all.  But still—

 _What if I turn out to be That Reclusive Nerd?_ the alpha writes.   _The guy who only leaves his room for class and food, and totally ruins the bell curve for everyone else?_

Jongdae laughs.  “Then we should definitely stick together, because I’m That Hypersocial Chatterbox who only goes home to shower and change, and who chose a major where being the loud center of attention is considered a plus.”

His eyes are so dark they seem to absorb all of the lamplight, yet they still sparkle as he scoots closer to Minseok.  “Hyung, it’s fine if you’re not an extrovert. But you don’t have to be a recluse if you don’t want to be. If you decide to venture out of your room and be social, I’ll be your Speaking Mouth Dog.  Like a seeing eye dog, but for someone who doesn’t always know what to say. You have such an expressive face—we’ll work out some sort of eyebrow semaphore or something, so I’ll know what you want and I can guide the way, fill in any awkward silences, perform the social niceties.”

Minseok chuckles as he writes, partly at the very idea—and it’s not without merit—but also at the fact that Jongdae referenced Minseok’s lack of social skills and not his lack of speaking voice.

_And what, in return I’ll use my super alpha powers to cow you into shutting up for five minutes in a row?_

Jongdae pouts.  “Actually, I was kind of hoping to borrow some of your silence in a different way.  I don’t just get to sing and compose all the time—sometimes I have to write papers, and I dawdle and procrastinate and then when I finally do get down to work, our pack house is really loud and distracting.  I go to the library sometimes, but… I bet you know of nice, quiet places to study. And maybe you’ll even sit with me sometimes, keep me company without luring me into a game of hallway cricket that will further deplete our security deposit.”

He gives Minseok those long eyelashes, scooting closer again, and the alpha almost leans forward to kiss the boy’s upturned lips.

But Minseok stops himself, embarrassment coloring his cheeks a magenta he hopes it’s too dark to see.  He’s never kissed anyone he wasn’t about to fuck, never even _wanted_ to kiss anyone outside of the bedroom except Huī Láng.  But this little beta seems to think Minseok’s a “hot alpha,” and he specifically mentioned making out as a possible date activity.

At least that’s a date activity Minseok is confident he knows how to do.

Still, he’s not confident it’s an activity that’s still on the beta’s agenda after Minseok has exposed his shameful past.  It seems wise to test the waters before diving in lips-first.

 _Jongdae,_ he scrawls on a clean page.   _If I invite you to my room, it won’t be to study._  He lifts his heated gaze from the notepad to the beta’s face.

The pleading look in Jongdae’s eyes catches fire, and then the beta is the one leaning for Minseok’s mouth.  But Minseok, suddenly very aware of all the people walking past the bench, doesn’t want his first kiss with the appealing little beta to be quite so public.  So he shoves his pen and pad in his pocket, grabs Jongdae’s shoulders, hauls him to his feet, and pulls him around to the less-exposed side of one of the trees studding the riverfront.  There’s already a couple there making soft noises in the shadows, but Minseok releases a soundless snarl that makes Jongdae stumble and the couple flee.

Minseok wants to pin Jongdae against the bark and take his mouth, but he also really wants the boy beneath him in another ten days or so when his rut kicks in, so he hauls his instincts back, convinces his ego it’s a bigger compliment if Jongdae stays because he chooses to rather than because he’s physically restrained.  So it’s Minseok’s back that hits the bark as he pulls Jongdae towards him by the waist, wishing he could yell in triumph when the beta comes willingly, hungrily, eagerly, to meet Minseok’s mouth with his own.

As soon as their lips touch, something deep in the alpha’s chest is realigned as if the boy in his arms is magnetic, and Minseok is lost.

He’s lost in the sensation of Jongdae’s slightly-chapped lips moving firmly, hungrily against his own, lost in the little whimpers of excitement and desire that slip from that perfect throat, lost in the way Jongdae presses closer to him, lost in the way the beta’s sharp, clean scent warms with spicy arousal without the saccharine taint of heat or the musky odor of rut.

“Whoa,” Jongdae pulls back to huff through an elated grin.  “Did you feel that?”

Minseok can only nod, because he _definitely_ felt that.  In some body parts more than others.

“I knew it,” Jongdae crows.  “I fucking _knew_ it was you.”  

Then he presses his mouth to Minseok’s once again, who’s more than happy to dive back into the beta’s smile.  Jongdae just tastes _so good,_ like sparkling-clear water from a storm-fed mountain stream, and Minseok can’t get enough, wants to devour him forever, until—

“Sir, is everything alright here?”

The voice is a deep, cautious rumble accompanied by a bright light that pins Minseok to the tree behind him, blinking stupidly and growling soundlessly as he tightens his arms around Jongdae.

“Of course, Officer,” Jongdae all but snarls.  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“We had some reports that someone was in distress.”

“Do I smell like I’m in distress?”

“No, sir,” the officer answers, because Jongdae reeks of arousal overlaid with irritation.

“Then do you mind?  We were having a moment.”

“Perhaps that’s a moment best shared in private, sir.”

A fresh spike of annoyance flavors Jongdae’s scent as he draws in a breath, but Minseok chooses to exercise the invitation to share his silence with the hyperverbal beta.  He claps his hand over Jongdae’s mouth, giving the officer a respectful bob of the head before again turning his unshielded eyes away from the guy’s high-beam. He knows it looks submissive but he squeezes hard against his instincts, fights the urge to rip the officer apart for interfering with the alpha’s claiming of his prey.  He does not want to conclude his only date ever with taser burns and a trip downtown.

Jongdae doesn’t fight the alpha’s gag, but he does glare at the officer, quivering a bit in Minseok’s hold as the officer gives them a measuring look.

“Have a safe evening, gentlemen,” the officer finally says, sweeping the glare of his light away and moving off to kill someone else’s night vision.

Minseok moves his hand from Jongdae’s mouth as soon as they’re no longer under the officer’s scrutiny, internally cringing a little at the beta’s potential reaction.  But Jongdae only studies him with a small smile on his face.

“Well, your oppressive upbringing at least granted you ridiculously impressive impulse control,” the beta finally says.  “I’d be a little offended that you hadn’t even tried to defend your claim, but you smelled absolutely furious. I have zero doubts you’re just as restrained during your rut.”

Minseok shrugs and nods, hoping the beta’s statement means he’s fine spending said rut with him, or at least visiting periodically.  His other partners seemed to appreciate that he didn’t constantly pester them, but rather waited for them to provide him with relief at their convenience.  

But Jongdae’s curled-up lips spread into an absolutely wicked grin.  “It’s going to be fun to find out what it takes to break that iron control.”

Then he sighs, glaring in the direction of the departed officer.  “I guess I should be glad you have it, though. I can’t believe someone seriously thought anything non-mutual was happening over here.”

Minseok can.  In fact, he’d bet actual money it had been the original occupants of the shadowy spot that had reported the alpha to the cop.  People had found his charisma unnerving when he could talk. Now that they’re compelled to back down without even hearing a growl, “unnerving” probably doesn’t even begin to cover it.

But Jongdae still smells like arousal, his bright metallic scent drawing the alpha in like steak to a wolf.  They aren’t wolves anymore, of course—the last full shifters died out around a century ago, the increasing urbanization rendering that particular trait evolutionarily unnecessary.  But the social structures and animal instincts still remain, along with the ability to elongate teeth and jaws into impressive weaponry, perfect for tearing the throats of rivals or scarring the shoulders of mates.  

It’s the second urge that has Minseok bending his face to lip at Jongdae’s neck, although his mouth remains entirely human.  He’s only let his instincts fully stretch his skull once in his life since the chaos of puberty, and that was an entirely reflexive reaction that saved his life.

In this moment, with Jongdae wrapped snug against him of the beta’s hormone-free volition, breathing in the scent that reminds him of the static-clean aroma after a thorough vacuuming session, hearing the boy’s indulgent chuckle as he obligingly tilts his head to make room for the alpha’s face against his soft, warm skin, Minseok finally believes, down to his very core, that his was a life worth saving.

Jongdae lets him nibble gently for a moment, letting him reassure his instincts that The Man hadn’t chased his potential partner away.  Then he straightens up, extracting himself from Minseok’s arms only to take his hand again.

“Come on,” Jongdae smiles.  “Let’s get some dessert!”

Minseok’s lips curve up a bit at the corners as he lets the beta tug him toward a hotteok cart.  For the first time in his life, he’s actually looking forward to his rut.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Minseok is usually much more careful than this.  Or rather, he usually had a certain person around to tell him when he reeks of rut and ask if he wants a hot little hole sent to his room (even though it had been years since he'd accepted).

But no one but Jongdae talks to him now and even if someone did, the tell-tale overly-territorial little growls are only coming out of Minseok's chest as particularly forceful little sighs.  While he usually gets moody just before he ruts, irritable-and-vaguely-murderous has been the alpha's default state ever since his little date with Jongdae.

They’d shared another intoxicating kiss before saying goodnight and it had been so damn hard to release the boy, let him go, watch him walk away to go back to his pack.  It hadn’t helped that Jongdae seemed just as reluctant to part, repeatedly looking back at Minseok over his shoulder, puppy eyes strangely hopeful as if he’d expected the alpha to call him back.  His instincts had been screaming at him to do just that but Minseok hadn’t wanted to seem too needy, to make the beta change his mind about agreeing to help the alpha out during his rut.

He’d been in a bear of a mood ever since, recently-indulged alpha instincts making lunchtime with Jongdae sweet torture.  The boy had been extra cuddly and Minseok had needed to mentally recite a mantra of _behave—don’t scare him off_ for the entire forty-five minutes they spent together every day.  And when the beta reluctantly left to go to class, tormenting Minseok with a tight hug and the briefest of pecks on the cheek before leaving, the alpha had needed to wrap both his arms around himself and dig his fingers into his own biceps to keep himself from chasing the boy or punching a wall.

But since he’d never had such elevated instincts prior to any of his other ruts, he’d completely ignored the now-obvious signs.  Therefore he's in the middle of his physics class (trying not to stab his nicely-sharpened #2 pencil through the jugular of the guy sitting next to him, clicking his pen incessantly) when his professor, a tiny alpha female old enough to have been around when physics was invented, sniffs the air before glaring around accusingly.

"Would whoever's about to go into rut please excuse themselves before an old woman embarrasses herself by getting territorial over a public lecture hall that doesn't even have a proper projection system?"  She twists her growl into a smile as she kicks at the podium laden with cables connecting her laptop to an extremely old-fashioned overhead display.

Even though he'd woken up with a boner hard enough to club someone to death that had refused to calm down in the shower, forcing him to tuck the stupid thing into his waistband and scurry to class anyway, Minseok still doesn't get it until nearly every nose in the two-hundred seat hall points directly at him.

Apparently, hormones make him fucking stupid.

Tossing his stuff in his bag and standing up so fast the clicky-pen kid almost falls out of his tipped-back chair, Minseok manages a deep apologetic bow before basically fleeing the building.

He knows he should just go home, text Jongdae to let him know a conjugal visit would be appreciated, then do push-ups and crunches until he literally can’t move.  But the thought of the hot little beta has him moving in the opposite direction, whipping his phone out as he goes.

 _Jongdae._  He wants Jongdae, craves him, but the beta isn't answering his increasingly-desperate texts.  He's probably one of those model students that turns his phone to do-not-disturb mode during class, the obnoxious little fucker.  But Minseok wants to be the fucker at the moment, and if he had vocal cords he'd probably be doing an embarrassing amount of whining about it as he darts aimlessly across campus.

 _You’re embarrassing yourself,_ he lectures internally.   _You told the kid you want him, he’ll come to you when he can.  Just calm the fuck down and go home—_

But then he catches a whiff of sharp sparking scent and he latches onto it like a bloodhound.  He's wandered near the performing arts cluster on instinct, and now he can scent the little beta somewhere close by.  He must look like a total tool, zig-zagging and sniffing the air, trying to determine in which direction the scent is strongest, but he eventually finds himself in front of one of the buildings holding classrooms rather than stages or practice rooms.  

He strides through the door, almost grateful for his shattered throat because he can feel how tight his chest is and he just knows he'd be either growling obnoxiously or whimpering like a hungry puppy.  His rage flashes white-hot when he realizes Jongdae took an elevator, that little bastard, forcing the alpha to climb six flights of stairs, sniffing the lobby on each floor, before he finds the one holding the hot electric scent of his little beta.

It's child's play to find the correct classroom after that, but incredibly difficult to knock and enter with a respectful bow rather than throw the door open and stalk inside to claim what's his.

Even still, a third of the class are either growling at him in challenge or melted onto the ground in submission the minute he enters the room, his rut-enhanced alpha pheromones washing before him like a tidal wave.  

Jongdae's teacher must be an omega, because he's the first to drop to the floor, arch his back, and display a not-unattractive neck for Minseok's approval.  But Minseok only wants to suck his marks onto one throat, thankfully belonging to a less-hormonally-susceptible, quick-on-the-uptake little beta who is efficiently shoving his things into his backpack as Minseok prowls up the aisle toward him.

But the kid beside him, another beta that smells mostly like warm citrus and a bit like fear, dares to stick his shoulder between the hormonal alpha and the electric-scented beta that Minseok's instincts, despite his rational protests, keep insisting is _his._  

"You can't just come in here—" the citrus kid starts, puppy eyes made flinty in defense of his friend.

But Minseok shuts him down with a silent growl that nonetheless spills more of his don't-fuck-with-me alpha charisma over the kid at point-blank range.  He flops bonelessly back against his chair, and even Jongdae flinches, looking up at Minseok with concerned black eyes.

 _Shit, don't scare him off, Minseok, you git._  Forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths that aren't actually very calming because now his head is filled with _his_ beta's bright, metallic scent, Minseok attempts a reassuring smile as he slowly holds out his hand to his potential partner.  Despite his insistently-throbbing erection that can't wait to be buried inside Jongdae's tight heat, Minseok needs to know— _needs_ to—that Jongdae is coming with him willingly, enthusiastically, and not just letting Minseok's raging hormones compel him to obey.

But Jongdae's answering smile is relaxed, genuine, even a little indulgent.  "Someone's needy and impatient, I see," he chuckles, shouldering his bag and clasping Minseok's shaking fingers with his steady ones.  "Thanks for not just throwing me over your shoulder and carrying me off."

"Jongdae, you can't just go off with him," the citrus-scented beta says, and Minseok recognizes him as one of Jongdae's boisterous pack.  "I don't care who he is to you, he's still a stranger to your pack. We don't even know where he lives—"

But Minseok is indeed impatient as well as painfully hard, and he doesn't have time for this cockblocker's objections.  But neither does he want to be tracked down and arrested for abduction, so he drops Jongdae's hand, whips his room keycard out of his wallet, and tosses it down on the desk in front of the scowling, citrusy beta.  Minseok uses the kid's own pencil to scrawl his dorm building, room number, and mobile number in the margin of the sheet music the keycard landed on top of.

Then he actually does scoop Jongdae up, backpack and all, and hauls him toward the door.

"Jongdae," the professor manages, still in an undignified heap on the floor.  "Standard excused rut-assistance absence is three days. Email me if you need more, and please encourage your mate to plan a little better next time."

"Sorry, Mr. Choi," Jongdae calls from Minseok's arms, prompting the alpha to drop the prone man a little apologetic bow before absconding with his prize.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

"How are we getting in your room if you just gave Baekhyun your key?" Jongdae asks, seeming to be entirely amused by the way Minseok has him tucked up underneath an encompassing arm, pressing his beta tight against his body (though he's allowing the boy to walk by himself, against his baser instincts).

Minseok answers only by hustling his prize more quickly across campus, soundless growls blasting hapless pedestrians with alpha aura like water from a fire hose.  He knows gaining entry isn’t going to be a problem, and indeed it’s not. He merely pounds on the door of his floor's RA, who takes one whiff of the alpha's dangerous scent and immediately unlocks Minseok's room for him before practically crawling away on his hands and knees.

And then Minseok has his little beta in his den, his room, his domain, all _his_ with the door locked against disruptions and interfering rivals.  He buries his face in Jongdae's neck, inhaling that sharp, ultra-clean scent as his beta does silly things like set his backpack down and toe his shoes and socks off.

"Lucky you have a single," Jongdae comments, looking around the sparse room.  

 _Lucky I have you,_ Minseok thinks, draping himself over Jongdae's body from behind and running his hands down his beta's chest.  The alpha rolls his hips slowly against his beta's ass, trying to appease his angry erection a little, trying not to just rip Jongdae's clothes off and bury himself inside.

"Easy, big guy," Jongdae laughs, his scent tainted with an edge of anxiety.  He digs through his bag and comes up with an industrial-sized bottle of lube.  "Remember: I'm a beta; we don't self-lube. Use that ironclad control of yours to slow down long enough to take good care of me, or you’ll regret giving my packmate your key.”

Minseok frowns at his beta, a little hurt that Jongdae would think, even for a second, that the alpha would be less than careful with him.  Jongdae is giving him the greatest gift he's ever received, there's no way Minseok is going to let his hormones fuck this up for either of them.  

 _This isn't about you,_ he lectures himself, forcing his hips to keep still.   _He told you he's never been with an alpha in rut before.  He's anxious, but don't take it personally._

Instinctively, Minseok tries to rumble low in his chest, to vibrate reassuringly against Jongdae's back, but all that happens is he huffs against his beta's nape, making him shiver as he presses his mouth against the sensitive skin.  Jongdae whimpers a bit, his anxiety replaced by arousal. His sharp, intoxicating scent stings into Minseok's nose while the alpha practically gives himself a cramp by refusing to rub his aching cock against that perfect little ass.

"Fuck," Jongdae breathes out alongside a little moan.  "Hyung, you smell so fucking _good._  I can practically _taste_ how much you want me—so fucking _hot._ "

Somewhere behind the head-pounding hormones screaming _pin him down and fuck him_ Minseok is amused that Jongdae seems like he's going to talk as much in bed as he does everywhere else.  That thought also has him gently but insistently herding his beta away from the door and toward the neatly-made bed in the corner.  Minseok might be an idiot when hormones are flooding his body, but he _had_ made an effort to prepare his space for his beta's eventual visit, stacking clean sheets and extra pillows on the footlocker at the end of his bed and hanging a dry-erase board, complete with marker-on-a-string, on the wall near the head.  

The board currently reads _Hyung_ _really_ _appreciates this!_ followed by a smiley face, making Jongdae point and chuckle as Minseok crowds him toward the soft surface.

"You don't have to act like I'm doing you some selfless favor," the beta chides.  "I want you just as much, you know."

Minseok nods, burying his face in his beta's neck while his fingers skim along the hemline of Jongdae's T-shirt.  He does know—he can smell his beta's desire, making his already-electric scent crackle in Minseok's head. The only times his partners had been this aroused, they were in heat, and it's making his guts twist with strange excitement whenever he remembers that Jongdae isn't; Jongdae _can't_ be.

Somehow, Jongdae wants him— _him,_ the albino freak, the silent killer, the anti-social nerd—without hormones, without coercion, without pity.  He's _not_ going to cry grateful tears, damn it all, and he's _not_ going to fuck this up.

 _Not an omega,_ Minseok chants to himself.   _Go slow, prep him well, don't forget the lube._

He manages to obey his own admonitions, waiting for Jongdae to signal his enthusiastic cooperation with sighs and moans before he tugs the beta's shirt off, absently folding it to set on the footlocker as he gently scrapes his lust-sharpened teeth over Jongdae's spine.  He hasn’t let his skull shift during rut since his first one, quickly learning that it freaked his partners out. He doesn’t want to freak his beta out, but he can’t seem to control his hormonal bones.

"Hyung," Jongdae moans, pressing his ass back against Minseok's aching groin, making the alpha draw in a hissing breath.  His beta’s eagerness certainly isn’t helping the whole keep-your-face-human situation.

He can hear Jongdae fumbling with his own belt, so Minseok merely runs his hands down his beta’s bare torso, doing his best to purr at the toned chest and lean abdomen his fingers encounter.  He curves his palms around Jongdae's wiry little waist, then lets them flare along his sides to rest over the beta's hips.

Jongdae's pants and underwear hit the floor, and then in a sudden move he twists around to flop backward onto the bed and grin up at Minseok, shamelessly nude and _very_ aroused.   Minseok's instincts are screaming at him to pounce, fuck, _claim,_ so he shucks his own clothing like it were on fire before diving to cover his perfect beta with his sturdy body, pin him between strong arms, devour him with hungry lips.

Jongdae returns the searing kiss just as hungrily, moaning into Minseok's barely-human mouth and rubbing his arousal against the alpha's length.  Minseok has endured many, many ruts at this point in his life, but his head has never been spinning like this, he's never been so crazy with the need to take, mark, own.

_Gorgeous.  Mine._

"Holy fuck," Jongdae whispers, eyes startled wide below him.  "Hyung—y-you can _talk!_ "

Minseok blinks, then feels his face heat, adding a self-conscious blush to his lusty flush.  Biting his lip, he ducks his chin in a bashful nod, although "talk" is quite the exaggeration.  What Minseok can do is _whisper,_ breathy and faint, lips and tongue shaping air left tuneless by his shattered throat.  

It's not generally worth doing, requiring heavy breath and a quiet room to be the least bit audible.  In fact, he'd forgotten he _could_ do it, hadn't meant to blurt out his hormone-intoxicated thoughts, but evidently panting with his lips centimeters from Jongdae's ear constitutes ideal circumstances for that particular manner of voiceless communication.

"Do it again," Jongdae begs, eyebrows kipped up toward the center of his forehead.  "Hyung, talk to me!"

Minseok's blush fades into frustration with his distractible little beta.  "Don't wanna talk," he whispers, bringing his face low to nip at Jongdae's earlobe.  "Wanna fuck you." He emphasizes his desire with a slow but forceful roll of his hips, sliding his heavy cock against Jongdae's.

His beta laughs through a moan beneath him, lifting his own hips to meet Minseok's demonstrative thrusts.  "Okay, but after, Hyung? You'll talk to me after?" Jongdae's voice is satisfyingly unsteady as Minseok sucks a mark against his beta's perfect throat.  

He usually tries not to mark his partners, but he’s possessed with such need for his beta that he’s either going to suck or bite, and this is the lesser of the two evils.  Engrossed in his re-decoration of his beta's luscious skin, he initially tries to growl when Jongdae tangles fingers in his hair, using his grip to lift the alpha's face and force him to meet his eyes.  

But he suppresses the urge and the accompanying rage, reminding himself that Jongdae’s body is actually his own and he probably doesn’t want it marked up by a horny half-stranger.

But that’s evidently not why his beta stopped him.  "Promise, Hyung. Talk after," Jongdae demands, free hand curving to fit against one of Minseok's muscular asscheeks.

The alpha blinks, waiting to be reprimanded for the marks.  But Jongdae only repeats himself, brows drawing down, insisting he respond.  Minseok offers a nod, and his scalp is instantly released.

Driven by a need stronger than his need to climax, Minseok lowers his face again to Jongdae’s neck, pressed to resume his very important task but trying to provide his beta with enough time to stop him if he objects.  But Jongdae doesn’t object, just writhes beneath him, moaning so deliciously as Minseok sucks his ownership against his beta's neck. Delighted and relieved at this blatant approval, he grins against Jongdae's skin, suddenly determined to get his already-loud little beta to make enough noise for both of them, neighbors be damned.

Jongdae's certainly wiggling enough for both of them, eventually squirming halfway out from underneath the alpha.  Minseok's first instinct is to tug him back into place beneath his body, but some still-civilized fragment of his brain points out that his wiry little beta might need to be able to properly inhale in order to make all those lovely noises for him, so the alpha allows his prey to shift him off to one side a little.  His alpha instincts are mollified a bit when Jongdae lifts his liberated leg to wrap it around Minseok's body, pleased that his sexy little prey is clinging to him so needily.

He's painted several mulberry love bites over Jongdae's milk-and-honey skin before he realizes his beta is only clinging to him with one hand, and the other is curved underneath his elevated leg.  It takes him another hickey and a half to realize that's because Jongdae's prepping himself, and all of his alpha pride crumbles at the thought that his partner clearly doesn't trust Minseok to take care of him.

He pulls away with a frown, all but slapping the hand at work between his beta's legs.  Setting his jaw and trying very, very hard not to be personally offended by Jongdae's self-serving act, Minseok ignores the bottle of nice water-based lube his smirking beta tries to hand him.  Instead, he reaches to tug open the drawer of his nightstand, making a show of extracting the brand-new bottle of high-quality lube and a strip of knot-accommodating condoms.

He had indeed thought of his partner's needs, evidently even more than Jongdae had himself, choosing a thick, slippery, silicone-based lube that wouldn't readily absorb into his partner's body.  The shit is _expensive,_ but it's sure to be worth it when the longer-lasting slickness makes the prolonged period where Minseok's knot ties them together—followed by the eventual withdrawal of his spent cock— _much_ more comfortable for his beta.

"Hyung, don't look at me like that," Jongdae whines.  "Did I somehow insult you by getting things started myself?  I didn't mean to—you're not the only impatient one, though. I've been fingering myself in the shower every day since our date, imagining your cock spreading me wide and fucking me deep."

It's hard to be annoyed with his beta when he's lying there, hugging a knee to his chest, looking at Minseok like he's sex incarnate and talking about masturbating to thoughts of the alpha.  In fact, it's hard to fucking think at all in such a situation. Minseok's hands are shaking as he slicks his fingers and slides two of them into Jongdae's partially-prepped hole, closing his eyes and biting his own lip with too-sharp teeth when his beta moans happily, clenching around the intrusion.

 _Don't rush,_ he commands himself.   _He's doing you a favor, the least you can do is make it good for him._

So despite the fact that his cock is fuchsia and feels like it's moments away from falling off, Minseok forces himself to take it easy, even teasing his beta a bit.  He trails his fingers against Jongdae's prostate, blessing the boy's vocal trainers for the long, undulating wail the act elicits. Grinning, he does it again, slowly, seeking to draw that sound out as long as he can.  

"Hyuuung," Jongdae whines.  "Quit playing me like a trombone and bone me for real!"

But Minseok doesn't, not yet, instead taking the time to add a third finger, then briefly slip in a fourth even though the infinity of time is currently measured only by the desperately-throbbing pulse centered in his dick.

But finally, he's reaching for a condom, only to have Jongdae grab his wrist.

"I'm not going to tell you _not_ to use one," Jongdae pants.  "But I will tell you that I got tested when you started talking about your rut, and my negative results are in my backpack for you.  And I know they test everyone that signs up to live in the dorms, so if you were negative then and I'm the first person you've been with since..." Jongdae shrugs.  "I'm a male beta. I can't get pregnant."

Minseok blinks at him.  He's _never_ topped without a condom.  The idea is as foreign to him as going outside without clothing.  But Jongdae is splayed open in front of him, smirking up at him with those curlicue lips and hot obsidian eyes, every bit an invitation to sin.  

 _Stop thinking,_ his hormones demand.   _Start fucking!_

Minseok drops the condoms, grabs the lube, slicks himself, and starts feeding his bare cock into Jongdae's waiting hole.

Jongdae moans, hooking a heel over Minseok's shoulder and tilting his hips to ease Minseok's progress, making the alpha momentarily livid because it's obvious his beta has done this before.  The thought of Jongdae, _his_ Jongdae, bottoming for someone else makes him flash hot with rage.  He has to close his eyes and count to ten around a deep breath in order to avoid slamming his dick home hard and fast and brutal, as if by bludgeoning Jongdae's insides he'd obliterate all traces of previous invasions of what belongs only to him.

 _Do this right, and you can be his last,_ comes a sudden thought, and Minseok's heart sings with the appeal of it.  Then he shakes himself, ignoring both irrational jealousy and unreasonable fantasy, resuming the slow-and-steady progression of his cock into his beta's hot, welcoming body.

Jongdae feels amazing around him, and Minseok is drunk on the wet slide of his beta's actual flesh against his bare cock and immolated by the sheer amount of _heat._  He buys good condoms, the kind that claim to leave him as sensitive as he'd be without one, and he'd never felt himself stifled by the thin barriers before.  But while they evidently do transmit sensation well, they apparently block a good deal of heat. With Minseok's cock bare, his little beta feels like a furnace, far hotter than an omega actually in heat ever felt with a condom on.

He finally sinks into his beta to the hilt, huffing in counterpoint to Jongdae's lusty whimpers as they both pant to recover their equilibrium.  Minseok is vaguely aware that he should probably start thrusting, but all he wants to do is press himself against his beta, glorying in the infernal heaven of Jongdae's fantastic body, running his fingers over all that beautiful topography while swallowing his beta's moans with kiss-swollen lips.

Thankfully, Jongdae seems content to indulge him, curving into his caresses, arching against the alpha's solid weight.  Minseok tries to support some of that weight on an elbow but Jongdae shoves at his arm until they're body to body, chest to chest, lip to lip once again.

Minseok is flooded with contentment, his alpha instincts incredibly pleased to have this warm, willing body pinned happily beneath him.  His rut is temporarily lulled with all that novel heat around his dick so the urge to drive toward his release is at a mere simmer. A vindictive little voice is rejoicing _see, you're desirable, your beta wants you, look how good you're making him feel, smell how aroused he is, hear how much he likes this, feel how ardently he's kissing you, taste his eagerness for more._ All of this with the lights on; all of this without his partner being hormone-desperate.

He could easily believe this exact moment is the sole reason he survived the Justice of the Fangs.  To feel such bliss in Jongdae's arms, Minseok would let Huī Láng tear through his larynx a thousand times.  Or rather, he wouldn’t—he’d end that mistrustful bastard at the start, instead of pleading for reason, for mercy.  He wouldn't need to shed hot tears of betrayal if he knew, half a year later, he'd be buried in his hot little beta just like this.

"Uh, Hyung?" Said hot little beta chuckles from beneath him, dodging Minseok's next attempt at a kiss.  "Not that this isn't nice and all, but do you ever plan to fuck me?"

Minseok scowls down at his unappreciative partner.  His beta. So difficult to please.

"Don't pout at me, Hyung!  We're gonna be tied together after this for like, half an hour, right?  I promise to indulge your broody alpha instincts and let you kiss me senseless then, but I haven't gotten laid since I smelled you in the cafeteria on the first day of the semester and you've been winding me up for weeks.  I was under the impression alphas in rut were fucking machines!"

Minseok narrows his eyes.  If his beta wants a fucking machine, Minseok will give him one.

He pulls back, cautiously thrusting in and out a few times to make sure his demanding little beta can take what he's about to dish out, then he sets a brisk pace with no further preamble.  The slick walls accommodate his cock quite nicely, the organ made more eager by the delicious friction. With Jongdae's ever-present moans and wails and gasps providing proof of his pleasure, Minseok lets his eyes close to better appreciate all the same-but-different sensations on his dick.  Jongdae is _so hot,_ like fucking into molten sin, and the expensive lube is proving its value, keeping him gliding smoothly rather than tugging against delicate tissues.

He hasn't even come yet, and it's already the best fuck of his life.

"Hyung," Jongdae gasps, reaching to pull Minseok down against him, to run his nails down his back, to pant in the alpha's ear, lisping around too-large teeth.  "Hyung, you feel so good. Oh, fuck, I can't wait for you to fill me with your come. I can't wait to come all over both of us when you knot me."

Ho.  Ly. _Fuck._

Minseok's hips stutter, rhythm faltering under this verbal assault.  This is not what rut partners say in Minseok's experience, if they say anything at all.  Omegas in heat beg for the knot. They can't help it—they're in agony until a knot's intense pressure douses the fire of their hormonal compulsion to breed.  But his rut partners, though they'd also been omegas, had mostly lain face-down, ass up, and waited for Minseok to be done. He'd always done his best to make sure they orgasmed as well, not that many had thanked him for the courtesy.

Never in his life had anyone begged for Minseok to fill them full of come.  How the fuck is he supposed to control himself, last long enough to satisfy them both, when such devastating words tumble from curled-up lips?

Face scrunched and jaw dropped around a soundless groan, Minseok gives his beta what he wants.  

He grinds tighter against Jongdae's body, forcing his cock as deep as he can to satisfy the instinctive need to shoot his seed as far into his partner's womb as possible (nevermind that his current partner doesn't have one).  Pressing deep also ensures that his knot will be well inside, inflating within a more malleable tunnel rather than stretching over-wide the sensitive ring of muscle that guards the entrance.

"Fuck," Minseok spits out in the breathy whisper that is the pinnacle of his vocal ability.  "Fuck, Dae, _fuck!_ "  He's overwhelmed with sensation, feeling somehow like he's the one being knotted as the base of his cock begins to swell ahead of his incoming orgasm.

Jongdae's moan turns into a keen, whether at Minseok's half-audible words or at the feeling of his inflating knot, the alpha isn't sure.  But either way, his beta clamps down around Minseok's cock, digging his nails into the alpha's shoulders, throwing his head back to expose his purple-spangled neck.

"Hyung!" Jongdae wails when Minseok's knot reaches its peak, angle and position making it press hard against his beta's prostate as promised.  "Oh, _oh,_ Minseok- _hyung!_ "

Jongdae’s audible enthusiasm causes Minseok’s own pleasure to hit like lightning down his spine, jolting from his throbbing cock in rhythm with his beta’s shouts of ecstasy.  It's a little strange for his spend to spurt out and away from him rather than pooling back around his dick, restricted by rubber. Somehow, despite the lack of actual breeding, it's a bit more satisfying.  Minseok puffs and pants in a sad echo of the possessive growls he should be making as he pulses again and again and again inside his beta's hot little body.

His beta!  Only ever _his!_

And Minseok knows he shouldn't, knows he _can't,_ because it's impossible and even if it isn't, it's all _wrong,_ but the urge is too overwhelming.  The only control he has left is choosing _where_ to sink his suddenly-massive, wickedly-sharp teeth, not whether or not to use them.

He aims for the meaty spot where Jongdae's trapezius wraps from his back to his left shoulder, trying not to hurt his poor beta even as Jongdae's blood fills his mouth.  Minseok winces above the mouthful of flesh as his own shoulder is also punctured by inhuman teeth, clinging to his beta with arms and fangs, on the edge of panic as a nuclear war breaks out within his mind.

 _No no no no no,_ the civilized part of him is babbling, while his possessive alpha hormones are roaring _yes fucking_ **_finally!_ **  This can't be happening, this isn't how things _work,_ not for him.  But even though his squeezed-closed eyelids are trying to shut his poor malfunctioning brain away from reality, Minseok can still taste his beta's salty, metallic blood on his tongue and hear Jongdae's throaty, satisfied growl and smell his bright, electric triumph and feel his beta release, hot and slick between their bellies while sharp teeth slice deeper into the alpha's shoulder.

As soon as he can, as soon as his orgasmic aftershocks and logic-overriding hormones have receded, letting his jaw unlock, Minseok spits out his mouthful of muscle.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," he whispers, forceful breath spraying Jongdae's blood from his lips to spatter over skin and sheets.  "I didn't mean to, Jongdae, fuck, I'm so fucking sorry."

Jongdae stops gnawing on him, releasing his shoulder to pin the alpha above him with hot, apprehensive eyes.  "What? _Why?_ "  

"I don't _know_ why, I've never had the urge before, I didn't mean to ruin you—"

The alpha's breathy babble is cut off by Jongdae's indignant shout.  "Ruin me? What the fuck, Hyung? You can't _ruin me,_ you idiot—I'm your mate."

Minseok's entire universe narrows to that one phrase, announced so matter-of-factly, perhaps even proudly, from perfectly up-turned lips.   _I'm your mate,_ Jongdae just said, like it's a given.   _I'm your mate,_ he'd said, like Minseok should have _known._

_What the fuck?_

Minseok mouths the words, but nothing comes out.  No sound, no air, no rational thought beyond this point.

But now Jongdae's laughing, and even though he's spraying Minseok's blood everywhere in the process, the alpha is relieved his beta no longer looks on the verge of violence or tears.

"Poor Hyung!  Your eyebrows look like they're trying to flag down a rescue plane or something!  Why is your possessive-hormone-addled brain struggling so much with this? I mean, I'm not the one in rut, but even I'm thrilled to have my very own true mate officially marked and claimed for the whole world to see."  Jongdae's pride and mirth dissolve again into that hard-eyed apprehension. "I mean... aren't _you?_ "

 _Fuck yes,_ the alpha's hormones declare, encouraging him to bite his mate again, to pin him down and take him from behind and bite him _properly_ on the back of the neck, to overpower him, dominate him, own him.

But the rest of Minseok isn't at all sure that what just happened is anywhere close to a good thing.  Still, when Jongdae's searching eyes narrow, evidently not finding the reaction they're anticipating, Minseok hastens to nod his head vigorously.  The last thing he wants is his beta to think Minseok's rejecting him.

As if he even could.

The blood oozing from Jongdae's shoulder to dribble onto the sheets is enough for his protective instincts to override the chaos in his brain.  The fight-or-flight reaction that had kicked in immediately after he'd realized what he'd just done has also drastically hastened the deflating of the knot, so Minseok only has to anxiously watch his beta— _his beta_ in actuality now, according to ancient lupine law—bleed against the bedding for a few more minutes before he can carefully withdraw his adrenaline-quelled cock.  He darts to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom along with a damp flannel to clean the mess his retreating cock had smeared all over Jongdae's thighs.

But when he returns, his independent beta is sitting up, his previously-discarded underwear sacrificed to absorb Minseok's leavings, trying to turn his head enough to watch himself dab at his bleeding shoulder with tissues pilfered from the alpha's bedside table.  His smile is a little hesitant when Minseok drops onto the bed beside him, popping the latch of the first-aid kit to rummage through it for disinfectant and bandages.

They clean and bandage each other's shoulders as simultaneously as they'd wounded them, working in a silence that seems unbearably loud.

"If you're really sorry, we don't have to tell anyone," Jongdae offers when they’ve finished, looking shy and vulnerable in a way that really doesn't suit him.  

Minseok shakes his head adamantly as he reaches for the marker dangling from the whiteboard on the wall.   _I want you!  I'm thrilled to have you!_ he scrawls as fast as he can while still being legible.   _But are you_ _sure_ _?  How do you know?_

He wants to add apologies for Jongdae's bad luck, for the cruel twist of fate that tied someone so bright and energetic to someone so cold and quiet, but the look of relief and then amusement on his beta's face stays his hand.

"How could you not know?  I mean, I wondered from the beginning, because why else would you smell so damn good to me?  And I really suspected when you told me you liked my scent, too—I get teased a lot for smelling like an overworked motor, but you’ve never once wrinkled your nose at how I smell.  But it was dead obvious when we kissed the first time—didn't you feel it?"

 _I certainly felt_ _something_ , Minseok writes.   _But that was the first entirely non-hormonal kiss I've ever had.  I just thought you were a particularly good kisser or something._

Jongdae chuckles.  "I _am_ a particularly good kisser, thank you very much.  But I'm not good enough to trigger the realignment of the universe, Hyung."

Minseok just shrugs, because he’d always figured he was such an aberration, something that shouldn’t exist, so he assumed he wouldn’t have a true mate (or any mate at all).  He never paid attention to the schoolboy tales of what finding your mate was supposed to be like, never expecting to need the information.

Jongdae shakes his head with a smile, tugging the marker from Minseok’s hand before pulling the alpha down to cuddle.  It should be gross, lying tangled against Jongdae's sweaty body on blood- and come-stained sheets, but Minseok is eerily content and calm.  It's his rut, he's only climaxed once, and on previous occasions he'd been pacing the floor like a caged beast while his partner either left for the day or ate his food and monopolized his TV for hours until the alpha's constant growling got annoying enough to warrant letting him fuck them again.  Or he'd been shivering on the floor of his shower, trying to resist the urge to masturbate, striving to touch himself as little as possible so he didn't have to waddle around with a chafed dick for days after his rut abated.

This whole being-held-by-his-beta thing is entirely preferable to either situation, even if they're both in dire need of showers and mouthwash and he's still not sure how he feels about the whole mate thing.  Jongdae hasn’t made a move to leave yet and Minseok would really like him to stay, at least for a little while. He hasn’t exactly done a lot of cuddling when _he’s_ been the hormonal one, and it’s really fucking nice to have his beta’s hands idly running over his skin and through his hair.

But Jongdae doesn't leave the alpha in silent thought for very long, of course.  "Hyung?" he asks, shifting so he can watch Minseok's face. "If you can whisper, why don't you do it more often?  I mean, I get that you might not want to get that close to someone you don't know and it wouldn't work well in noisy places like the cafeteria, but you could have whispered to me on our date."

Minseok shrugs.  He licks his lips, inhaling deeply to have enough air to ease his beta's curiosity.  "It's hard," he exhales. "Takes a lot of breath. Writing's more comfortable."

"Oh."  Jongdae frowns a bit.  "Does it hurt, or does it just take some effort?"

"Just effort," Minseok huffs.

Jongdae's smile makes a tentative return.  "So... if it doesn't hurt, would you mind if I asked you to do it sometimes?"

Minseok quirks a brow.  "Like when?" he sighs.

Jongdae laughs.  "Always so suspicious, Hyung.  I'm not gonna ask you to record audiobooks or anything.  But... I like hearing you. And I especially liked hearing you say my name."

Minseok's reservations dissolve into a smirk.  He shifts so his lips are practically touching Jongdae's flushed ear.  "I'd scream it for you if I could," he whispers, not needing to force as much air over lips and tongue when his audience is so close to his mouth.  "You're wonderful, Jongdae, just perfect, and if you're sure you want to go through with this mating thing, I'll try my hardest to compensate for having so many shortcomings."

Jongdae had shivered against his lips, but at the last bit he pulls away to glare at Minseok, intense eyes already informing Minseok he's lost whatever argument is about to ensue.  "Your worst shortcoming is believing that you're so sub-par," his beta lectures. "Quit letting someone else's ghost put callous thoughts into your head. Or at the very least, give equal weight to the words of your mate as to the voices of your past.  I think you're handsome and sexy and adorable, I think you smell fantastic, I think you're witty and resilient and a hard worker and you're gentle and caring and a fucking tease. Minseok-hyung, you're amazing, and I'm absolutely _thrilled_ that I get to have you for my mate."

Minseok's not crying.  He's just burying his face in Jongdae's neck to better smell his mate's addicting electric scent.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

The rest of Minseok's rut seems to be orchestrated by the lupine gods to provide a glaring contrast between _before_ and _with Jongdae._  Before, a rut was something to be suffered through, something endured twice a year, an embarrassing thing where his instincts tried to wrestle his control away.  And Minseok had always resisted, fought hard to maintain his rational thought even when his brain was flooded with hormones encouraging him to do beastly things. He’d get the worst headaches during his ruts, angry squeezing pain that pulsed in counterpoint to his angry throbbing dick.

But not with Jongdae.  Not with his _mate._  He’d said he’d never been with an alpha in rut, but he somehow knows just what Minseok is trying not to need.  For one thing, he doesn’t leave Minseok’s side for longer than it takes him to visit the bathroom, even when Minseok writes on the whiteboard the first night that he’s free to go home whenever he wants.  Jongdae gapes at him, face stretched in offense.

“Why do you want me to leave, Hyung?” he asks, the tone of his voice implying that the alpha better have a good fucking reason indeed.

 _I don’t,_ Minseok writes.   _But you have class, and a pack—_

Jongdae’s shaking his head before the alpha’s sentence is finished.  “Hyung, I’m not going to leave you when you need me like this. You heard Mr. Choi—I have three days excused absence from class, and then it’s the weekend.  We have five days before we even have to think about class again. And my pack knows where I am, they know how to contact us, and they keep sending me dumb sex gifs that I respond to with middle-finger gifs so they know I’m alive and well.”

The beta’s eyes go soft.  “Why did you think I’d leave?  Is... that what... you’re used to?  Is that why you don’t think it’s a big deal to just go it alone?”

Minseok doesn’t answer.  Or at least, he doesn’t think he does.  

Yet Jongdae presses his lips together in a hard, thin line that somehow still flicks up on the ends.  “Hyung, even if we weren’t mates, even if I were just doing someone a favor, I wouldn’t frazzle your instincts like that.  And since we _are_ mates, good fucking luck getting rid of me.”

And then he drags a flabbergasted Minseok back down for more cuddles.  

His beta.  Always acting like Minseok is normal.  Lovable, even. Like the alpha ought to feel _entitled_ to affection, instead of suspicious of  it.

And Jongdae is very affectionate, cuddling and snuggling with Minseok whenever they’re not eating or cleaning up or actively fucking (and sometimes even then).  In fact, except for bathroom breaks, he’s always touching Minseok, resting one hand on his shoulder or thigh while they eat, twining together while they sleep. And Minseok sleeps so well, surrounded by his beta’s sharp static scent, never once waking in a panic, unsure of his mate’s whereabouts.  He’s always indelibly aware that Jongdae is right beside him, Jongdae is _his,_ and the alpha is actually able to snooze for hours at a time instead of napping fitfully.

It’s not until the morning of the second day that Minseok realizes his instincts aren’t writhing in frustration in his skull.  They’re almost entirely appeased by Jongdae’s constant reassurances that he’s here, he’s Minseok’s, he’s content in the alpha’s arms.  In fact, even though Minseok’s usually-hygiene-obsessed mind is flooded with mate- and territory-marking instincts that would prefer if his beta's perfect ass were constantly leaking his come on a bed that reeks of them both, his bestial urges are lulled enough to let his mate coax him into showering (together of course) and changing the sheets at least once per day.

It’s not until the afternoon of the second day that Minseok realizes Jongdae’s soothing the alpha’s instincts _on purpose,_ indulging his clinging possessiveness before the alpha ever has a chance to fret.  Minseok never paces the floor like a caged wolf, never has to give himself internal lectures about other people’s agency.  And—probably not coincidentally—he doesn’t even have a hint of headache.

His dick doesn’t ache, either, because Jongdae also handles that aspect of his rut like a champ, granting the alpha the beginnings of sweet relief as soon as he realizes Minseok's starting to suffer.  But he protects himself, too, getting Minseok off with thighs and hands and mouth at least as often as he comes, screaming, on the alpha's knot. He even fucks Minseok a few times, proving exactly how fun a prostate can be, strong hands providing soothing pressure around the alpha's knot as Minseok pants curses through his release.

And Jongdae indulges Minseok's most possessive instincts, letting the alpha fuck him hard from behind and sink his teeth firmly into the nape of Jongdae’s neck as he pumps his mate full of hot semen, growling silently as his knot and his hand force Jongdae to sing his name and stripe his satisfaction over their third set of sheets.  He fucking _loves_ that mark, tidy little parentheses on either side of his mate's spine, because it'll still be blatantly visible when Jongdae's wearing a shirt.

Not that Minseok is in any hurry to see that happen.

He loves having his mate nude in his bed, loves giving him pleasure while taking his own, loves the periods of languid kissing or soothing cuddling while they wait for the alpha's knot to go down.  He loves dozing off in his mate's arms, listening to that golden voice croon a gentle lullaby. And he loves waking up to Jongdae pressed warm and close, inhaling the pungent, clean aroma that he’s so fucking addicted to.

But mostly he just loves _Jongdae._  

They don’t get much chance to chat, in writing or in whispers, between fucking and naps and showers and eating takeout in bed, but Minseok doesn’t need words to fall hopelessly in love with his bold, bright, beautiful beta.  He just needs Jongdae’s fingers in his hair as he falls asleep and his fondly indulgent smile when he wakes up to Minseok’s erection against his hip. How his beta murmurs “Hyung” sleepily in the dark, warm breath tickling his ear, and how he wails it as Minseok fucks him, making the single word into an entire opera.  The way he rolls his eyes when Minseok insists on hand-feeding him, and the way he smiles when he hand-feeds the flustered alpha in return.

Minseok fucking loves his beta’s smile.

But especially heart-stealing is the way Jongdae kisses Minseok like he wants to, like he enjoys it, like it’s something more than foreplay.  The press of his beta’s mouth against his own feels like so much more than lust, so far beyond simple affection.

Every kiss from his mate echoes in Minseok’s heart like some sort of _promise._

Jongdae continues to prove that while he doesn't like being coddled, he does enjoy being taken care of, especially when he gets to take care of the alpha in turn.  He doesn't let Minseok fuck him frequently enough to chafe him raw, but he does take the alpha's knot often enough to leave him a bit sore—and then he lounges in Minseok's bed, a pampered pillow prince while his mate pulls on enough clothes to accept their takeout order from the delivery guy without getting himself blacklisted.  Jongdae lets Minseok help him to the shower, gently bathe tender flesh, and carry him back to bed, enjoying the fuck out of having a personal manservant even though he's only as sore as he's allowed himself to be.

After the first few hours, Jongdae knows Minseok won't force himself on his mate or even demand or beg for relief, but he also knows in the alpha’s current hormonal state, he can't exactly turn down ass when it's so freely offered, and Jongdae enjoys the fuck out of playing both sides of the coin.  And Minseok rather enjoys letting him, enjoys feeling desirable and dominant rather than tolerated; protective and providing rather than inconvenient. He feels more like an alpha than he ever has, despite the fact that he’s well aware his beta is wrapping him more and more firmly around his sturdy little finger.

He is so fucking whipped for his mate, and Minseok couldn’t be happier.

Minseok's rut finally abates in the afternoon of the fourth day.  His sense of relief when he slides inside Jongdae's hot little ass is so profound, the alpha knows immediately that it's about to be over.

"Last one," he whispers up to his beta in the pause before Jongdae starts riding his cock.  "Any requests?"

Jongdae's eyes light up.  "You know what I want, Hyung," he coos.  "Talk to me, my sexy mate."

Minseok rolls his eyes, but he's grinning back as Jongdae starts to roll his hips beneath Minseok's claiming hands.  Since his beta's doing all the work for him, Minseok has plenty of breath to feed his mate's fantasies.

"Oh, Dae, you're so fucking hot.  You take Hyung's cock so well, even after four fucking days.  Fuck, Hyung is so fucking lucky to have you, my own precious, perfect beta."

"Damn right," Jongdae agrees, working himself up and down the alpha's cock.  "You're mine, Hyung, and I'm yours. You'll wear my scar for the rest of your life, and it'll look fucking stunning against your pretty, pale skin."

Minseok closes his eyes and arches up to meet Jongdae's bouncing ass, loving the savage permanence of his mate's mark, a scar he can be proud of, proof that someone finds him desirable enough to claim him so boldly.  Alphas rarely wear mating scars, tending to prefer to do the scarring instead. There is still enough wildness left in alpha DNA that the urge to own is usually quite strong, as is the urge to be free, untethered, able to claim without being claimed.  The fact that Minseok is considering augmenting his wardrobe with a bunch of boat-neck, beatnik shirts to show off the deeply possessive marks of his mate's lupine teeth is yet another sign he's completely whipped for his beta, but his alpha instincts don’t object.

In fact, they seem to glory in being claimed.

 _Someone thinks you’re strong, a capable provider, a desirable mate!_ his instincts rejoice.  The mark means even more because Minseok hadn’t run Jongdae down and convinced him to accept the alpha.  He hadn’t “won” his beta’s warm regard. Jongdae had pursued _him._

"I want to show your mark off to the whole world," Minseok whispers.  "I love that the world knows you're claimed, but I'm even more smug about the fact that you claimed _me._ "

"Of fucking course I did," Jongdae growls.  "I'm not letting anyone else sniff around what's mine.  Only I get to fuck you, only I get to ride you, only I get to milk your fucking knot as you pump me full of hot come."

Minseok feels his teeth sharpen, sighs into his mate's possessive words.  "I fill you because you're _mine,_ my perfect mate.  You're the only one I've ever given my come to, the only one to taste me, the only one to ever get my cock _and_ my heart."

"Fuck, you're gonna make me come with those sexy fucking whispers," Jongdae moans, increasing his pace.  "I thought I liked making a lover scream, but this is way fucking hotter. Plenty of alphas howl down the hallways, but _my_ alpha pants his pleasure just for me."

"Only for you," Minseok agrees, Jongdae's additional vigor making it harder for him to catch enough breath to fill his mate's ears with praise.  But he's also about to fill his mate's ass with come, so he perseveres, keeping his words short and simple, sticking to what he knows his beta loves best.

"Jongdae," he pants.  "Oh, _fuck,_ Jongdae!"

"Hyuuung," Jongdae wails in response.  "Give it to me, Hyung. Wanna feel you throb, wanna feel your knot."

He grinds down on Minseok harder, faster, knocking most of the breath from the alpha's lungs.  Minseok still has just enough left for a drawn-out, gasping "Dae!" as he catches those bouncing hips in both hands, pressing his mate down on his cock, arching his pelvis up against Jongdae's ass to lock his knot deep inside his perfect beta's perfect body.

"Fuck, Hyung," Jongdae pants when he feels Minseok swell inside him.  "Fucking fill me!"

Minseok does, hissing and cursing and sighing as he obeys.  A moment after the alpha’s knot reaches its peak, Jongdae spurts his satisfaction onto Minseok’s chest.  Then the beta collapses forward, smearing the mess around. The alpha slaps Jongdae’s still-impaled ass in retaliation, earning an unrepentant chuckle.

Minseok’s covered in sweat and come but he’s also covered in _Jongdae_ and all his alpha instincts are roaring with satisfaction.  He really hopes this mate business means that Jongdae will be willing to help him out next rut, too.  It’s going to be really hard to go back to cold showers and his own hand after this absolute luxury.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

When the knot goes down enough to let his beta move, Minseok tries not to be disappointed when Jongdae lets the alpha's cock slip out of him and sits up, reaching for tissues to hold against his leaking ass.  All his other partners have immediately wanted to clean up, and of course he wants his mate to be comfortable.

"Hyung," Jongdae sighs.  "You are the very best lay I've ever had, but I hope you'll forgive me for being excited about giving my poor ass a break."

Minseok nods.  He understands, but he's going to miss the beta's warm little body in his bed.

"So:  Let's shower, order food, change the sheets, and... what?  Do you want to watch a movie or something? Or would you rather sleep?"

Minseok shrugs.  It's not going to matter once the beta goes home.

But Jongdae doesn't go home.  He scrubs himself down beside Minseok in the shower, coaxing the alpha to shampoo his hair and purring happily beneath Minseok's fingertips.  Then he does the same for Minseok, laughing at whatever facial expressions Minseok makes at the pleasant sensations. He's bathed with other boys his whole life, gang showers being the most efficient way to clean a bunch of filthy boarding-school boys.  But nobody's helped him wash since he was old enough to do it himself, and nobody has ever made it into an expression of affection, a sensation to be enjoyed. It feels amazing, and Jongdae has insisted on this mutual grooming every time they'd showered over the last four days.  

And Jongdae doesn't leave after the shower, either.  Instead, he raids Minseok's closet for a clean T-shirt and a pair of flannel lounge pants, tossing a similar set of clothing at Minseok.  When they're dressed, Jongdae stands in front of Minseok with his hands out to the sides.

"Okay, knock yourself out," he invites with a smile.

Minseok cocks his head.

"C'mon, you know you want to."  Jongdae curls the end of his fingers in an inviting  gesture.

Minseok lifts a brow but steps forward anyway until he's close enough for Jongdae to hug if he were so inclined.  

But the beta just rests an ear on his own shoulder, offering his neck in a way that makes Minseok's stomach flip a little.  He seems to be expecting something, so Minseok steps closer, wraps his arms around Jongdae’s narrow waist, and presses a gentle kiss against the previously-abused skin of the beta’s neck.

“Yes, yes, thank you; you’re very sweet, Hyung,” Jongdae dismisses.  “But hurry up and rub your scent on me so we can order food already.”

Minseok freezes, then takes advantage of the fact that his lips are near his beta’s ear.

“You actually want to smell like me?” he whispers.  Jongdae had kindly indulged the alpha’s possessiveness during his rut, but it’s over.  And hadn’t they just painstakingly washed all of that away?

Jongdae huffs.  “Of course I do, Hyung.”  He sounds exasperated. “What part of ‘I am your mate’ do you not get?  I’m supposed to smell like you. You’re supposed to _want_ me to smell like you.”

“I do,” Minseok assures him as audibly as he can whisper.  

He clamps his lips shut over further whispered words, explanations or excuses, in favor of rubbing his cheek, neck, and jaw over the beta’s neck and chest and shoulders.  He can’t help but smile in satisfaction when his beta—his _mate_ —is layered in his scent.

His smile only grows when Jongdae rubs his face back against Minseok, just a cursorial swipe of “Jongdae was here” as opposed to “Minseok’s only, back off,” but it’s still so much more than he’s ever gotten from anyone—well, anyone who didn’t view him as an ownable object, anyway.

Then Jongdae goes to steal Minseok’s phone and his wallet and order food, so Minseok fulfills the rest of his beta’s plan (and satisfies his rapidly-returning fastidious inclinations) by changing his sheets to his last clean set, then gathering up all of the soiled laundry from the last four days and stepping down the hall to chuck it in one of the communal washing machines.  

Taking the washer’s key back with him to the room, he returns to find Jongdae sprawled out over his bed again, scrolling through streaming entertainment choices on Minseok’s laptop.

Does Jongdae mean to pick out entertainment for him, to make up for his own absence?  That’s kind of cute. Or maybe he just wants entertainment for himself while he fills his stomach one more time?

“Scary, funny, or explosions, Hyung?” Jongdae asks with that endearing curled-up smile as Minseok approaches the bed.  

Minseok shrugs as he lets Jongdae tug him down onto the clean sheets and arrange himself on top of the alpha.  He’s not going to be able to pay attention to any kind of plot with the beta draped over him, rut or no rut. And he’ll probably just go to sleep after Jongdae leaves.

So for the half-hour it takes for the food to arrive, Minseok just sits there inhaling that clean metallic scent and trying to absorb the sensation of holding the beta close, feeling Jongdae’s laughter reverberate from his chest into Minseok’s.  He spends a few minutes trying to convince himself that this cuddling isn’t just going to make it harder to let the beta go back to his pack, but then he can’t think to argue with himself anymore because Jongdae lifts his chin to kiss Minseok, for no evident reason whatsoever.

And then he goes back to watching the comedy like that was a normal, ordinary thing to do.  

It wasn’t a chemistry-testing kiss, like the ones they’d shared by the river.  It wasn’t a teasing, riling foreplay kiss, nor was it a soothing, claiming afterglow kiss.  It wasn’t a kiss to say “Good morning, I’m still here with you” or “Sleep well, I’ll be right beside you when you wake.”

It seemed to say something a lot like “I like you” or “I’m happy,” and Minseok is becoming increasingly aware that he has no useful frame of reference for any of this mate stuff.   

But before he can spiral too far down the oh-fuck-what-do-I-do-now road, there’s a knock at the dorm room door.

“Pizza!” Jongdae shouts, launching from the bed.

He throws the door open, then laughs and hugs the delivery guy in an overly-familiar way that makes Minseok suppress a growl.

“Hey, loser,” the pizza boy says in a deep voice that makes Minseok more bitter than usual about the loss of his own.  “Glad to see you haven’t been fucked to death and left in a ditch. Is your phantom lover coming to watch the game?” He hands Jongdae the pizza and cranes his head around the door to see Minseok, sending a whiff of toasty omega scent into the room.

But Minseok has already crossed the floor to stand behind his beta, silently growling a little.

The delivery boy, a tall kid with huge ears and unruly red hair whom Minseok recognizes as one of Jongdae’s boisterous pack, hits his knees and bares his neck to the alpha.  “Fuck, you’re so hot. You sure you’re his mate?”

Minseok nods, slipping his arms around Jongdae’s waist.  Jongdae is the best luck Minseok’s ever had—he’s not sure that he deserves it, but he’s going to fight like hell to keep it.  This omega can fuck right off, pack mate or no.

“Yeollie!” Jongdae chides.  “You know we’re freshly mated and his rut just broke like an hour ago.  Quit riling him up, let me enjoy the afterglow and my pizza.”

“So you’re staying another night, then?” the omega asks as Jongdae signs his own name to the slip for Minseok’s credit card like he has every right to spend the alpha’s cash—which, he reminds himself, is technically true now that they’re mated.

“Of course I am,” Jongdae says, as if he’s insulted the omega would even question this.  “I’m not going to leave him during the critical post-rut bonding period. What kind of a mate do you think I’m going to be?”

 _Critical post-rut what now?_  Every other partner had bolted as soon as possible.  Is this a mate thing, a Jongdae-thing, or just a non-albino-freak thing?

“You’ll be home tomorrow for the game, though, right?”

“If my mate is okay with it, then sure.”

The toasty omega’s eyes flick to Minseok’s over Jongdae’s shoulder and he pouts.  “You’ll be okay with it, won’t you?” he asks with big pleading eyes.

Minseok will absolutely not be okay with letting his beta walk out the door, but that’s his own problem to stifle.  Mate or no, Jongdae is still his own person with his own pack and his own life, and Minseok can hardly keep him prisoner, especially now that the excuse of his rut is over.

So he nods, trying not to glare at the omega who’s just doing his job as a delivery guy and also looking after his packmate.  These are normal, healthy behaviors, and Minseok may not like it, but he doesn’t get to throw a fit about it.

But the toasty omega cheers, giving Jongdae a high five that makes Minseok swallow a growl.  “Awesome, I’ll tell Soo to cook for you, then.”

“And tell Baek to have that key ready to give back.  I’m not letting him drop in on my mate whenever he wants.”

“You’ll have to pay for it with explicit rut details, you know that, right?” the omega laughs, stepping back into the hallway.

“Just tell him what my neck looks like, and remind him what happened the last time he tried to keep my mate from something he wanted.”

The omega’s laugh is loud and Minseok is happy to shut his door with Jongdae and the food on the inside and the delivery boy out.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

The pizza is consumed rapidly, Jongdae once again making himself at home on Minseok’s bed.  The alpha is starting to believe the little beta’s declaration that he doesn’t intend to leave, at least not for another night.  Minseok feels secure enough that his mate will stay that he’s only slightly reluctant to take the pizza box to the trash chute and change the now-clean load of sheets to the dryer.  Still, he’s very relieved to open the door to his room and find the beta smiling at him from his bed, laptop displaying the recommendation screen of the streaming video service.

But before Minseok can join the beta in bed, an alert goes off on their phones.  Jongdae pulls his out from under the pillow as Minseok plucks his off the nightstand, lifting his brows to see he’s been invited to the “ExoPackGroupChat.”

“Wow, Kyungsoo’s really going all-out for the EAFF party tomorrow.  He likes to express his provider-alpha urges by cooking all the things for us, and we’re more than happy to indulge him.”  Jongdae’s eyes crinkle as he looks up at Minseok, dumbly holding his phone. “Accept the invite already, Hyung—Soo wants to know if there’s anything you don’t like or can’t eat.”  He grins. “I already told him about the squid.”

But instead of responding to the invite, Minseok uses the phone in his hands to text the boy sitting a meter away from him.

####      `≪ _Are you seriously planning to bring me home to your pack?_`

Jongdae rolls his eyes.  “Duh, hyung. We’re mates.  They’re my family. Therefore, they’re your family now, too.  That’s how family works.”

That hasn’t been how it works in Minseok’s experience.  Families shatter around him in distrust and death, and he’s not keen to relive the experience a third time.  

Even if Jongdae’s right and the world in general isn’t as hostile to him as he assumes, even if food-cart proprietors and random students mostly seem to tolerate an unnerving, unlucky albino in their midst, that’s entirely different from welcoming Death’s unholy bastard into one’s home.  Minseok is not in a hurry to introduce himself to a bunch of people who’ll probably be less than enthusiastic to see a ghoul’s mark on Jongdae’s shoulder.

####       `≪ _I don’t exactly have the best track record with packs,_`  
`≪ _But I understand that you’re excited to go back to yours._`  
`≪ _I’m grateful you’ve indulged my hormones this long._`  
`≪ _I won’t give you a hard time about leaving._`

Jongdae scowls down at his phone before transferring the glare to the alpha beside him.  “Okay, first, we’re alone in a quiet room—you’re not texting me when you could be whispering.  Get your emo ass over here.”

Minseok obeys, letting Jongdae pull him down onto the bed and pluck his phone from slack fingers.  The beta closes the laptop, sets Minseok’s phone on top, and sets the devices on the nightstand in favor of tackling Minseok against the pillows.

The alpha releases a breathy sigh as he’s pushed into the bedding, unable to stop himself from wrapping an arm around the boy that’s about to give him an it’s-been-fun-but-I-need-my-pack-more-than-you sort of goodbye.  It’s almost more painful to be coddled like this than it would have been if Jongdae had just walked out already.

Minseok would never make the beta stay with him rather than return to his true home and his happy, unbroken family—he can see that the boy would wither without his pack.  But no matter how nice it is to hold his mate close, if the condition for continuing to do so is pledging himself to another pack and subjecting himself and his blameless mate to their judgement, he’ll have to let the bright little beta go.

Since no amount of wheedling will override the painful lessons of the past, he’d rather the beta just get the goodbye over with and leave Minseok to lick his wounds.

But Jongdae cuddles against Minseok’s shoulder, rubbing more than strictly necessary in an obvious effort to leave his scent behind.  Then he nudges the alpha’s head back so he can work his lips and tongue to create a blossoming magenta bruise directly beside the twisted crimson scar left by Huī Láng’s fangs.  Jongdae lifts his head to survey his work, then nods once in satisfaction before skewering the alpha with an intense onyx gaze.

“I’ve never felt the need to mark my territory, but I will do this every day until you get it through your brooding-bassist skull that you and I are a permanent pair.  We’re mates, Hyung. We don’t have to be attached at the hip—I understand that you’re used to having your own space. You can still be my mysterious lone wolf if that’s what you’re comfortable with.  But you are as welcome in the Exo pack house as I am, regardless of whatever happened to break up the Dawnhart pack.”

Jongdae’s eyebrows kip up toward the center of his forehead.  “You don’t have to tell me about it, but I’ll listen if you ever want to talk.”

Minseok’s stunned stupor breaks over a snort.  “I thought I was the designated listener,” he whispers, because he’d much rather trigger some indignant whining than figure out how Jongdae’s words are making him feel.

“Hyuuung,” Jongdae obliges.  “I can listen! Especially to my mate.  And the pack wants to hear from you, too.”  He reaches for Minseok’s phone, using the alpha’s thumb to unlock the device before efficiently setting up the group chat application.  “Now, let’s call you… MinseokMatHyung. Put them all on alert.” He grins as he hands Minseok his phone back.

Minseok stares at the beta, then at his phone.  Jongdae smiles, grabs the laptop again, and settles back against Minseok, shifting around until they’re both able to see the screen.  “How about we watch some hot guys in tight costumes save the world?”

Pretty sure the hot guy in his oversized T-shirt has already saved _his_ world (or at least his worldview), Minseok nods as he posts an answer to the pack chat.

####       `_MinseokMatHyung (17:05):  I like squid if it’s sashimi, but I’m happy to eat whatever you have planned._`  
`_MinseokMatHyung (17:05):  Thank you for including me._`

Then, because it seems that he can, that he’s allowed, that it’s expected, because Jongdae’s his _mate,_ he wraps his arm around the beta’s shoulders, pulling him closer and rubbing his face on the boy’s soft hair.  He’s rewarded with a wide smile that curves Jongdae’s eyes into crescents as his phone chimes in his hand.

####       `Dyodor (17:07): You’re the opposite of Jongdae, then.`  
`Dyodor (17:07): He only likes squid if it’s cooked.`

####      `MaknaeOnTop (17:08): plus hes a troll and u seem polite`

Jongdae scowls at his phone, but then the sun breaks over his face again when Minseok leans in to rest his head on Jongdae’s shoulder.  The alpha still has no idea what the rules are in general, but at least in the privacy of Minseok’s room, Jongdae seems willing to indulge the alpha’s new-found craving for physical contact.  Minseok’s determined to get as much as he can while the beta’s still here, in case this meeting-the-pack thing goes as disastrously as he fears.

Jongdae rests his own head against Minseok’s with a little chuckle.  “Hyung, you’re adorable,” he coos. “You act all scary and aloof to the world but you're really just a puppy in search of a belly rub, aren’t you?  You’re a bit undersocialized, but you’re not actually asocial. You’ll be fine tomorrow—the pack is going to love you."

Minseok shrugs, nuzzling into the beta’s neck to breathe more of the sharp, aseptic scent he loves so much.  He doesn’t know _what_ he is anymore, but having his very own enthusiastic mate really has realigned his universe.  The jagged wound of his past fades to a dull ache when he’s surrounded by the beta’s scent, so if Jongdae wants him to re-learn how to play well with others instead of just glaring at the world, Minseok can man up and do that.  

His sociable mate needs his pack to be happy, and Minseok needs for his mate to be happy.  His alpha instincts, not nearly as pushy as they were hours ago in the grip of rut, still insist that it’s Minseok’s job now to provide and protect, and each one of Jongdae’s glowing smiles is proof that the alpha hasn’t yet failed his mate.  

And if Jongdae’s happy, he’s likely to spend time with Minseok, and the alpha can admit that the prospect of a belly rub from the beta—or any touching at all, really—is incredibly appealing.  He wants to be a good mate so Jongdae keeps coming back for more, so he’ll hang out in the alpha’s room sometimes and leave that sharp scent behind, hopefully in Minseok’s bed. And if getting to steal a few of Jongdae’s hours means Minseok has to sacrifice a few of his own in return, he’ll convince himself it’s not such a hardship, especially if there’s a game to watch and food to eat.

In the meantime, Minseok continues to feel out the boundaries of this new relationship.  It turns out that Jongdae not only tolerates but welcomes all of the physical affection Minseok wants to give him, enthusiastically responding in kind.  The beta even pauses the movie at one point so he can pin Minseok to the bed and make out, a slow, languid act obviously not meant to lead to anything else.  It’s such a heady feeling, the casual arousal in his gut and the squeezing affection in his heart, how even if he’s on his back beneath the beta or playing the little spoon when they finally resume the movie, his long-smothered alpha instincts crow in triumph, screaming _yes, you’re the fucking boss, you got this fucking hottie all over you, you sexy fucking stud._  Some of that might be residual rut hormones, but it still feels really fucking good.

And Jongdae wears Minseok’s scent and the marks of his teeth and lips like designer accessories, and he keeps smudging his own claims over Minseok’s skin as well.  The beta isn’t as aggressive or prolific in his visual or olfactory territory-marking, but he is casually insistent that at least one of his marks be visible despite Minseok’s clothing.  So after another glorious night sleeping wrapped around his very own mate and another enjoyable shower where they massage each other’s scalps, Minseok emerges from his closet wearing a sweater tight enough to hug his physique with a V-neck low enough to showcase several hickeys _and_ reveal the edge of the freshly-applied bandage over Jongdae’s claiming bite.

Jongdae’s approval is expressed ardently enough to make Minseok wish he’d opted for looser-fitting pants.  Then the beta tangles their fingers together and marches him out of the dorm and toward the off-campus student housing district, wearing one of Minseok’s hoodies and a very smug smile.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

The building Jongdae leads Minseok to has a modern style despite the brick-and-stucco exterior, all intersecting, overlapping cubes.  There’s a low wall with a gate separating a patio area from the street, and there are party lights strung up both on the patio and over the balcony atop the foyer.  Through the full-length window to the left of the white-painted front door, Minseok sees what looks like an ocean of small, fluffy dogs charge toward the glass, most of them barking their tiny heads off at the approaching pair.

Jongdae gives Minseok a sheepish look.  “Uh, I probably should have mentioned that the pack has a pack.  You’re not allergic, are you?”

Minseok shakes his head, crouching and reaching toward a little white poodle on the other side of the window.  The little dog starts trying to lick Minseok’s hand through the glass, prompting the alpha to huff in amusement.

“Oh good, you seem to be into dogs.  Um, it’s going to be loud for a minute,” Jongdae warns, then opens the door to release the hounds.

Minseok remains crouched, one hand outstretched as the wee beasties tumble out of the door in twos and threes to loudly greet the new arrivals.  They boil around the two, most of them giving Jongdae a cursory sniff before bouncing to investigate the unfamiliar Minseok, and the alpha rubs all the ears and bellies presented to him.  

There must be close to a dozen of them, mostly poodle-y types, small and fluffy with varyingly-poofy haircuts in white and gray and brown and black, several wearing little doggy outfits.  There’s also a prick-eared terrier with a short haircut that’s still barking at him imperiously from an arm’s length away after the rest have succumbed to Minseok’s offers of petting, and a corgi, looking somehow oversized among the rest despite its stumpy legs, that’s loyally wiggling beneath Jongdae’s stroking hands.

“Ah, our security system has once again done an excellent job of alerting the house and waylaying intruders,” comes a laughing observation in accented Korean that makes Minseok’s stomach twist in a sudden surge of homesickness.  

He looks up to see a handsome guy with a dimpled smile regarding him with friendly consideration, rolling his eyes as the opinionated terrier grows bold enough to bark at Minseok from half a meter away.

“That’s enough, Byullie,” the man admonishes, scooping up the vocal beast.  “You’re very brave, you rule the roost, and it’s very gracious of you to allow these peasants entrance into your realm,” he informs the dog, who wags a stubby tail at the attention before licking the man’s face.

The dimpled man, a beta with a refreshing herbal sort of scent, tucks the pacified dog under his left arm so he can offer Minseok a handshake and a bow, which the alpha stands up to return.  “I’m Yixing, and I’m sorry about our unruly pets. Please, come inside—careful not to let them trip you.”

Minseok manages to wade through the dogs and through the door, followed closely by the tumultuous micro-pack.  The building is modern inside, too, all neutral colors and dark hardwood floors, minimalist aesthetic totally ruined by the mountain of shoes strewn all over the entryway floor and the scooters, drones, and other outdoor toys leaning against the walls.

As Minseok and Jongdae toe off their own shoes to add to the chaos, Yixing counts the pups, ticking off colors and numbers to his evident satisfaction before he shuts the door and sets the terrier down among the rest.

“Alright, off with you.  Let our new hyung relax without being harrassed by the Itty Bitty Yippy Committee.  Go on, shoo!” Yixing gestures at the pups, and they wander off, except for the terrier remaining glued to the window, ears at maximum alertness for any more intruders, and the corgi, remaining glued to Jongdae’s side, entire rump wagging in lieu of the largely-absent tail.

When he can step across the foyer without tripping over a ball of fur, Yixing reaches to pull Jongdae into a bear hug.  “Congrats on your mate, Jongdae-yah. I’m so happy for you!”

Minseok tamps down a growl.  Of course Jongdae’s pack is going to touch him, that’s what packs do if someone isn’t an unlucky albino freak.

The few seconds Jongdae spends in Yixing’s arms are still way too long for his comfort, but eventually his beta pulls away from the other with a, “Thanks, Yixing-hyung.”  Then Jongdae twines his arm around Minseok’s waist, giving him a squeeze as he reaches to take the alpha’s sunglasses off with the other hand.

“Zhang Yixing, this is Kim Minseok, my mate,” Jongdae announces, actually sounding _proud_ about it.  He tucks one arm of the sunglasses into Minseok’s V-neck before turning to beam at the dimpled beta.

Yixing and Minseok exchange bows again.  “It’s very nice to officially meet you,” Yixing says.  “Jongdae can’t shut up about you, and you’re already living up to all the hype.”

Minseok feels his face heat above his self-conscious smile.  He gives his beta a sidewards glance, amused that Jongdae’s ears are also red.

“Xing-hyung,” he whines, but Yixing only laughs.

“Come through to the living room,” the herb-scented beta invites, leading them out into a generously-sized room with tall shelves of what looks like comic books, movies, and video games flanking the huge window that dominates the space and movie posters covering what remains of the walls.

“Kyungsoo’s in the kitchen—” Yixing gestures toward an oversized doorway blocked by a long baby gate, in front of which most of the dogs are clustered.  “—And the rest of the boys are hiding from Junmyeon-hyung in their rooms so they don’t have to help set up.”

Yixing winks at Minseok.  “So, our evil plan is to have someone really _interesting_ in the living room, so as to lure curious able bodies into our labor force.”  He gestures to the sofa, and a laughing Jongdae prods a bemused Minseok to fold onto the cushy tan microfiber surface.

A stressed-looking guy carrying a stack of plates hops over the baby gate, dances through the assembled dogs, trips over a snoring fat brown poodle, and falls toward the sofa.  Minseok winces in anticipation, but the guy somehow catches his balance at the last minute, just enough to set the pile of china semi-gently on the console table behind the couch before collapsing gracelessly onto the hardwood floor, sending alarmed puppies scampering for cover.

It’s kind of nice to have two other usually-chatty people rendered just as speechless as Minseok.

The noisy terrier runs over to lick at the heap on the floor, which soon sorts itself into an attractive beta whose fresh saline scent is laced with a tang of anxiety.  He pats the terrier and brushes his fluffy blonde hair out of his face as he sits up, grimacing when he notices the trio of witnesses.

Evidently deciding that this movement signals the beta is fine and therefore what just happened is allowed to be funny, Jongdae collapses onto the sofa in a fit of laughter.  Yixing just shakes his head at both his packmates, rounding the sofa to give the guy on the floor a hand up.

“Well, that’s not the first impression I wanted to make as Jongdae’s pack leader,” the salty beta says, letting Yixing haul him to his feet before offering Minseok a bow and a handshake over the back of the sofa.  “I’m Kim Junmyeon.”

Minseok politely returns the greeting, then shrugs, points at the pile of undamaged plates, and offers the beleaguered beta a thumbs-up and a gentle smile.

Junmyeon’s shoulders sag and his face relaxes into a smile, transforming him from a harassed middle-aged man into a cute college kid.  “Jongdae-yah, I like this guy already,” he announces. “Welcome to the pack, Minseok-hyung.”

The leader glances over his shoulder, then leans down to ask, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be craving being alpha to six unruly underclassmen, plus Yixing, Kyungsoo, and me, would you?”

Minseok is smiling, but he makes an X with his arms, firmly shaking his head.  Everyone seems friendly enough so far, but Minseok is going to cling fiercely to his Mysterious Lone Wolf title.

Junmyeon snaps his fingers in the air as he straightens back up.  “Damn. Had to ask, anyway.”

“You’re a great leader, Myeon-hyung,” Yixing assures the fellow beta.  “We all appreciate you, right, Jongdae-yah?”

Jongdae has squirmed around so his legs are dangling over the arm of the sofa and his head is pillowed on Minseok’s thigh, but he rolls to give his pack leader those cherubic eyelashes as he nods emphatically.  “Yes, Junmyeon-hyung, thank you for your hard work,” he chirps obligingly.

Junmyeon scowls down at the boy in Minseok’s lap.  “Yeah, well, maybe try that line when I wake you up for class next time, instead of ‘fuck off and die,’” the leader suggests.

“That wasn’t me!” Jongdae protests, face a caricature of indignation.  “That was Kyungsoo!”

A dark head pops out of the kitchen as if summoned by Jongdae’s wail. “That was me,” he agrees when his big round eyes fasten on Junmyeon.  “Sorry, Hyung.”

The vaguely-intimidating gaze flicks to Minseok as Junmyeon grumbles his forgiveness.  “Nice to meet you, Minseok-hyung,” the wide-eyed boy offers with a bow that Minseok stands to return, dumping a protesting Jongdae off his lap.  “I’m Do Kyungsoo, and I’d come shake hands, but, well—” Kyungsoo lifts a very shiny knife coated with red juice that’s still alarming even though it’s too bright a color to be blood.  “I’m a little busy,” the boy finishes, giving Minseok an adorable heart-shaped smile before disappearing into the kitchen once again.

Minseok can’t smell the guy from this distance with all the food aromas clouding the air, but he’s nonetheless sure he just met the alpha Jongdae had characterized as “tiny but terrifying.”  He finds the description more than apt.

But Minseok’s attention is drawn from the kitchen to the hallway as rapid footsteps approach the living room.  “Did that big crash mean Jongdae’s here?” a vaguely-familiar baritone inquires, and when the voice’s owner skates into the room on stocking feet, Minseok recognizes the tall omega that had delivered their pizza.

“Hey!” Jongdae protests, rolling off the sofa and standing up to face his accuser.  “Why would a crash be my fault?”

The omega shrugs broad shoulders.  “You like to sneak into the kitchen and steal food even though Soo floors you when he catches you.”  Wide eyes flick to Minseok’s amused face. “Wow, you’re still really hot. I mean, I’m Park Chanyeol, and I have something for you.”  Chanyeol’s sock-clad feet provide a very cartoonish impression of the omega as he scrambles back down the hallway, chased by a little black poodle in an Iron Man T-shirt.  

Minseok blinks, cocking his head at Jongdae, but his beta just shrugs back at him.

“Ohmigods _look_ Yixing, our Dae just communicated with his mouth _entirely shut!_ ” Junmyeon gasps, fingers curled into his own gaping maw.

Yixing snickers, and Jongdae communicates again with a dead-eyed glower and an expressive hand gesture.

Minseok sucks in a breath, because that type of insubordination would _not_ have been tolerated by his former pack leader.  But this one only laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Just for that, go find Baek and start setting up the extra chairs,” Junmyeon commands with a smile.

Jongdae slumps his shoulders and whines his way toward the hallway.  Heart still racing a little, Minseok goes to follow him, but Yixing gestures to the sofa again.

“Please, Minseok-hyung.  You’re our guest. Let us give you the illusion we’re a proper, respectable pack just this one time before you realize it’s all smoke, mirrors, and chaos.”

The beta’s dimpled smile is so genuine that Minseok can’t help but relax enough to respond in kind, settling back onto the sofa even though he’s still a little on edge with these strangers now that his beta is out of his sight.

But Chanyeol is scuttling back into the room, elongated limbs making a comedy out of his inability to corner quickly in his slippery socks, the black poodle bouncing along behind him.  He slides to a halt in front of the couch, then drops to his knees at Minseok’s side, a tablet in his hands.

“Okay so I’m really sorry if this is like, offensive or something, but our pack is like, _super_ loud and I’m sure you don’t actually need help getting attention when you want it but I had this program on my tablet to add synthesized lyrics to my songs and if you just type—” The omega taps at the onscreen keyboard, and then a smooth metallic voice intones, “My name is Minseok and I am way out of Jongdae’s league,” each syllable getting the same measured beat.

“Hey!” His mate re-enters the room along with the citrus-scented beta from the music class Minseok interrupted.  They’re both carrying collapsible canvas chairs, and Jongdae is wearing a pout. “I mean, it’s totally true but it’s kinda rude to rub it in, Hyung.”

Minseok’s shoulders shake silently.  He accepts the tablet from the beaming omega, tilting his head at the program’s interface.  Chanyeol shifts to sit on the couch beside him, pointing at the display.

“So you can probably just ignore this part up here, that’s for like, editing the pitch of the notes, you know, making an actual song.  But I just made everything the same pitch, in a mid-tenor register since I may have stalked you online and there were some insta vids and oh shit your mate is going to kill me.”

Indeed, Jongdae is scowling at the pair, hands on his hips as the sun-scented (but evidently cloudy-dispositioned) beta ignores them to walk back down the hallway, corgi at his heels.

“I want to, but I won’t because you’re a fucking genius, Yeollie,” Jongdae says.  “I’m totally annoyed I didn’t think of something like that first. But still, once everyone starts yelling, nobody’s gonna hear a tablet.”

“Which is why I paired it with our best bluetooth-enabled speaker,” Chanyeol gestures, swiping the tablet’s settings open to activate the device.  Then he resumes giving Minseok a tour of the vocaloid app.

“So, there are a few other voice options if you don’t want to be a J-pop star, but this one seemed closest to your natural voice—er, seemed the most natural, I swear I am not an obsessive stalker fanboy, please don’t murder me, Dae!”

“Fuck I caaaan’t,” Jongdae whines, pretending to throttle the much larger omega.  “I probably like owe you a favor now and shit, you helpful fucker.”

“Will you sing one of my songs in the end-of-year show?” Chanyeol asks, eyes sparkling up at Jongdae.  Then his eyes go wide and he looks at Minseok, then back at the beta.

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol gasps.  “Jongdae, four-thirty-three!”  When Jongdae’s brows draw together, Chanyeol goes on.  “Dae, in the end-of-year show, Minseok-hyung should do four-thirty-three!”

Now those brows dart upwards, curving into those cute little angled crescents Minseok has become embarrassingly soft for.  “Oh fuck yes, but also boooo stop being a better mate than me, I’ve never done it before and you’re showing me up, asshat!”

Since Minseok has a smooth Japanese robot voice and a big-ass bluetooth speaker at his disposal, it’s too easy to type out, “What’s four-thirty-three?” and watch everybody in the room jump at the amplified question.

Yixing recovers first.  “Whoa okay maybe let’s just turn the speaker down a bit for now.”  He hops to grab a remote off a side table, pressing a button before handing it to Minseok.  “Feel free to turn it back up later if you need to—Chanyeol is right, our pack does get super loud.”

“When you’re done helping Minseok-hyung, Yeol, could you find Tao and move the TV in here?” Junmyeon asks.

“Let me help him, he’s _my_ mate!” Jongdae plops down on Minseok’s other side.

“Or you could let him play around with it for a bit on his own, and help Baek bring in the rest of the chairs,” Junmyeon suggests.

“Yes, Hyung,” Jongdae and Chanyeol sigh in unison, trudging back down the hallway.

Question still unanswered, Minseok presses the button to play it again, this time at a more moderate volume.

“I can’t say I know for sure, but I’m guessing they meant John Cage’s _4’33”_ ,” Yixing says, carrying baskets of chips into the living room to set on the coffee table in front of Minseok.  “It’s a composition, written for any instrument, voice, or combination thereof, in three movements, lasting a total of four minutes and thirty-three seconds, and there are no notes—just musical rests.”

When Minseok tilts his head at the dimpled beta, he continues to explain.  “It’s basically four and a half minutes of silence, written out as formally as possible.  It’s sort of a joke among musicians, ‘go practice _4’33_ ”’ meaning ‘shut up’ and so on, but John Cage’s original purpose in composing it was to encourage people to appreciate the music in all the ordinary sounds around them.  Sort of a musical ‘stop and smell the roses.’”

Minseok nods and smiles at the helpful beta, feeling a little awkward as he sits and watches everyone else work around him.  Everyone in this pack is so helpful, actually, and ridiculously ready to accept Minseok as Jongdae’s mate. It’s kind of freaking him out.

Minseok jumps as someone slams a chair down next to the sofa, looking up in time to catch the citrus-scented beta’s scowl as he stalks back down the hallway.

Okay, maybe not _everyone._  In a way, it’s almost reassuring to have someone treat him normally.  As long as that Baek kid’s around, Minseok will be more confident he hasn’t suddenly entered the Twilight Zone.

Junmyeon sighs from behind him, setting more dishes on the tall table at the back of the sofa.  “Sorry about our Byun Baekhyun,” he says. “He’s Jongdae’s best friend, they room together, they’ve always been sort of a package deal.  He’s a bit jealous at the moment, it seems, but I’m sure he’ll come around. He loves Jongdae, so he wants him to be happy, and Jongdae’s obviously thrilled to be with you.”  He gives Minseok a reassuring smile.

The front door swings open and slams shut, much to the consternation of the pack of puppies, literally caught napping (or chasing scampering people or drooling at the kitchen gate).  “I’m sorry I’m sorry practice ran late please don’t eat without meeeeee,” someone wails, and then a tall, gorgeous, half-naked kid flies from the foyer down the hallway, pulling more clothing off as he goes.  He’s chased by both brown poodles and a dainty white one, leaving a waft of sweaty, stressed, smoky-scented beta in his wake.

“And that was Kim Jongin,” Yixing laughs, carrying in a tray of vegetable crudite.  “He’s going to be so embarrassed when he realizes he basically flashed you, and he’s _adorable_ when he blushes.”

“Minseok-hyung, do you want a beer?” Kyungsoo calls, poking his head out of the kitchen to see his response.  At Minseok’s enthusiastic nod, his fellow alpha grins and disappears.

A moment later, the sofa shakes as a tall, broad-shouldered blond with a model’s face plops down beside him.  On guard, Minseok eyes this newcomer, whose cool, dusty scent reveals him to be an alpha and therefore the maknae.  He’s well-built and hard-eyed, the only thing soft about him being his silky-looking dark hair and the white fluffy dog that hops up onto his lap.

Minseok’s attention is pulled away from the handsome alpha pup when Kyungsoo seats himself on the other side, finally close enough for him to pick up the other alpha’s mineraline scent under the layers of delicious food smells.  Minseok can’t help but tense as he’s flanked, even if the gray and black poodles that hop up on the sofa to join the chef are cute. The way Kyungsoo scoops the smaller black dog into his lap and slowly strokes its back makes him look not unlike a Bond villain.

Instinctive distrust for being surrounded makes Minseok growl a little, silent as ever, but the maknae has his beer-filled hands up in appeasement even as he and Kyungsoo avert their eyes.

"Whoa there, Mat-hyung," the pup says.  "We're not here to bump chests. We know you could take us without blinking."

"But Jongdae's our packmate and we love him, so we're traditionally obligated to give you the 'fuck him over, we'll fuck you up' speech," Kyungsoo explains, scratching the gray poodle behind an ear.

"Even if we all know how that'd go if we tried," the maknae smiles, going from cold to cute with the tiny twitch of his tiny mouth as he hands Minseok the promised beer.

"And even if it's obvious you're just as smitten with him as he is with you," the chef concludes, producing an adorable smile of his own.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t hurt him on purpose.”

Looking back and forth between the two, Minseok manages his own small smile along with a nod of understanding.  This is an entirely different situation than Huī Láng’s preference for beating the snot out of pack incomers to prove he could (and that he wouldn’t hesitate to do so in the future) before turning sunny and supportive once again.

As with almost every difference between his old pack and this new one, Minseok prefers this up-front expression of solidarity rather than the blatant show of strength.

Sober-faced, Minseok traces an X over his left pec, meeting the alphas’ gazes in turn with sincere eyes.  Their smiles grow wider at this cross-my-heart pantomime, and the pup holds out his own bottle of beer for a toast.

“To Jongdae,” the lanky maknae offers.

“Thank fuck his mate isn’t as loud and obnoxious as he is,” Kyungsoo intones, touching his bottle to the pup’s.

Shoulders shaking, Minseok clinks his bottle against the other two, and then sips his beer along with his fellow alphas, the three of them settling more comfortably onto the sofa.  There are enough alphas in the world that most packs have more than one—Minseok’s old pack had three—and that can make for some tense situations. It’s nice to have a calm demonstration of this pack’s peaceful alpha co-existence.  

It’s not that neither alpha is very powerful, which is usually the case in beta-led packs.  On the contrary, Minseok isn’t nearly as confident that a two-against-one confrontation would result in his easy victory, so he’s twice as happy to drink beer and make nice.  And the gray poodle gets tired of trying to share Kyungsoo’s lap and commandeers Minseok’s instead, so the three of them can practice their supervillain concepts in unison.

For a while, they sit in companionable silence, snorting at poor Junmyeon who is trying to dig Jongin’s favorite house slippers out of the mess in the foyer while simultaneously coordinating Chanyeol and the other omega—another tall, strapping kid that smells vaguely of shifting sand—as they maneuver a huge flatscreen in front of the giant window, trying to attach the mounting plates to the flimsy-looking stand that Yixing is steadying for them.

Finally fed up with the snickering from the peanut gallery, the leader stalks over to the sofa full of alphas, shaking a single house slipper at them.  “You could _help_ , you know,” he snarls, causing his two packmates to grin and shake their heads.

“I cooked,” Kyungsoo points out.

“And I’m being a gracious host to our new alpha bro,” the pup says, throwing his arm around Minseok’s shoulders.  “We’re having important maknae-mat-hyung bonding time.”

The leader’s eyes narrow.  “I see how you are, Oh Sehun,” he says, voice almost a growl.  “I’m only your favorite hyung until someone prettier comes along, is that it?”

The pup—Sehun, apparently—tilts his head at Junmyeon with a little smirk.  “Do you really think you were my prettiest hyung before Minseok-hyung showed up?”

The harried beta holds up the slipper, opens his mouth, then purses it, fisting the shoe against his hip.  Then he turns on his heel and strides back over to the foyer.

“You’re still my favorite though, Leader-nim!” Sehun calls over the back of the sofa, causing Junmyeon to pause and throw a smile and an eye-roll over his shoulder.

A beat later, Sehun stands up to lend his strength to the pair of omegas, supporting the middle of the TV while they plug various wires into the back of it and align it with the precarious-looking floor stand.  Jongin, now wearing soft gray pants and a fitted white t-shirt and raking damp black hair off his forehead, bustles toward the foyer, almost slipping on the hardwood floors in his thin socks.

Kyungsoo frowns at the beta’s near-crash.  “I think Meokmul had Nini’s slipper in his mouth the other day.  I bet the naughty beast hid it under the bed.” He narrows his eyes at the black poodle in his lap, who appears entirely unrepentant.  “I should dig it out before Myeon-hyung pops a blood vessel,” the alpha announces before abandoning his beer on the side table, setting the black poodle on the floor, and heading down the hallway in the opposite direction from the foyer.

The black poodle and the white dog recently displaced from Sehun’s lap both eye Minseok for a moment, and then he has three fluffy dogs carelessly shoving their dainty feet dangerously near his groin.

Minseok wraps his arms around his lap full of puppies, puffing gentle shushing noises at them in the hopes they’ll settle down before one of them steps on something he values.  He blinks at the baffling events happening around him. This pack doesn’t seem to operate by any rules he’s familiar with, but somehow their chaos and lack of protocol seem to work for them.  They obviously care about each other and know how to work together, even if pack rank and status don’t seem to be nearly as sacred as he’s used to.

Sehun says something to the sand-scented omega in adorably-accented Mandarin, and the omega’s face lights up.  He fires back a rapid stream of the same language that obviously goes right through Sehun’s ears uncomprehended, and the whole exchange makes Minseok’s heart squeeze painfully.

Nevertheless, Minseok taps away at the vocaloid app, changing the language and entering text in characters almost more familiar to him than his native alphabet.  

The robotic Mandarin suddenly pouring forth from the speaker on the coffee table makes the poor Chinese omega startle so hard he screams and drops everything he’s holding, which makes both Chanyeol and Yixing collapse with laughter.  The three dogs on Minseok’s lap flee from the chaos, causing the mouthy terrier to vocalise a stern opinion while trotting over to see what the commotion is.

It’s a good thing alphas are strong.  Sehun looks at his floored packmates around the unwieldy TV in his long arms, then twists around to glare at Minseok, who is suppressing soundless chuckles of his own on the sofa.  He schools his face into innocence under the maknae’s stern gaze.

“I should have known Jongdae-hyung would find himself another fucking troll,” Sehun accuses.

“He was trying to help,” Yixing says, nudging Chanyeol with his foot before collecting the other omega’s abandoned cables.  “Your Mandarin is getting quite good, Sehunnie, but we use a different word for the connectors than the literal translation from Korean.  Minseok-hyung was trying to help connect the dots.”

The startled omega has recovered enough to bob a greeting to Minseok.  “I’m Huang Zitao,” the lanky boy introduces in his native tongue. “It’s nice to meet you—it’ll be nice to have someone else that understands Mandarin, now that I’m used to your, uh, voice.”

Minseok returns the bow and taps at the tablet, sending more Mandarin through the speaker.  “It’s nice to meet you, too. The fancy voice isn’t actually mine, though. Chanyeol set it up for me to play with while I’m here today.”

But Yixing shakes his head, following both the Mandarin conversation and Chanyeol’s Korean instructions as to which cord goes where.  “I’m pretty sure he means for you to keep the tablet, don’t you, Chanyeol-ah?”

The omega sticks his head out from behind Sehun’s long legs to nod, fluffy red hair bouncing as he does so.  “Of course, Minseok-hyung—that’s an older version of the vocaloid software on an old tablet. I’ve got the latest version on the new tablet Myeon-hyung gave me for my birthday.  The old version doesn’t offer as many voice options, simultaneous layers, or vocal effects, but you don’t need those, anyway. If it’s helpful, please keep it.”

Minseok shakes his head, setting the tablet to the side.  This is just too much.

But then he has a lapful of Jongdae and his reluctance (and rational thought of any kind) is obliterated by his mate’s enthusiastic kiss.  

“You’re keeping it, Hyung,” Jongdae declares.  “Chanyeollie’s getting _my_ voice for his end-of-year project, which means he’ll get the best grades and impress all the lady alphas just in time for his next heat.  He’s absolutely not suffering for your gain, Hyung.”

There’s no way Minseok can argue with a lapful of his beta and a head full of his sharp sparking scent.  Jongdae hands him the tablet again, sliding off to settle on the sofa with his arms wrapped snugly around the alpha so Minseok can see the tablet on his knee.

Switching the language back to Korean, Minseok sends more digital words out into the air.  “Thank you, Chanyeol. All of you are treating me so kindly. You’ve given me a voice, but I don’t know what to say.”

They all coo at him, so Minseok sets the tablet down again in favor of burying his burning face in Jongdae’s shoulder.  This only draws more cooing, making Jongdae laugh and Minseok sigh, but only a little. It’s hard to complain too much about being viewed as cute after spending over two decades being viewed as hideous.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

The rest of the afternoon continues to be surreal, and even if Minseok had an intact larynx he’d still have spent it pressed against his mate, silently observing the strangeness around him.  He feels like one of those nature explorers, crouching in the underbrush and narrating the unusual behavior of the jungle creatures surrounding him.

_See how the omega reaches past the alpha to take more chicken without being cuffed.  And look! The beta is taking chicken directly off the tiny, murderous alpha’s plate and yet is given an indulgent eyeroll instead of a black eye._

In another corner, Sehun is bickering in a mix of languages with the Chinese omega, who isn’t at all cowed by the younger alpha’s broader shoulders or imperious air.  In fact, Zitao’s air is fairly entitled, himself, and when the two get loud enough to interfere with the game, Junmyeon barks at both of them to shut up. The two immediately swap attitude for aegyo, pulling sweet faces at their leader, who merely narrows his eyes at the troublemakers.

Two minutes later, the pair of them are tangled in an unsortable mass of limbs on the loveseat, dead asleep.  This seems to be an invitation for Jongin, the chicken-stealing beta, to add himself to their cuddle-pile. Minseok winces internally as yet more too-long limbs are draped over the sleeping pair, waiting for the alpha’s snapping jaws and irritated growl when his rest—and possibly his mate?—is disturbed.

But the already-dozing pair wake up just enough to fully envelop the interfering beta in their heap of bodies, and then the three of them snore in easy unison.

This pack is fucking _weird_.

But Minseok, while so overwhelmed his head is starting to pound, still thinks he might like it.  It’s chaotic and casual, but everyone still takes care of each other, and with the exception of the still-grumpy Baekhyun, they go out of their way to take care of Minseok.

His plate and his beer seem to fill themselves, despite Jongdae’s whining that he’s perfectly capable of taking care of his mate himself (and despite the fact that the alpha rather feels like he should be the one filling the beta’s plate instead).

Everyone is careful to ask him yes or no questions while his hands are full of food, saving the more open-ended get-to-know-yous for after Minseok sets his plate aside.  They’re patient while he types, and seem genuinely interested in his responses, all while Jongdae practically preens at his side, alternating proud smiles directed at Minseok with smug smiles directed at his pack.

With Jongdae’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, Minseok types what feels like an essay about his favorite foods, musical taste, and hobbies (evidently “whiskey and variety shows” is an amusing but acceptable answer, much to Minseok’s relief).  When the talk turns to his major, he answers that yes, he likes it; yes, he’s glad to be almost done; and yes, he’s already applying for jobs.

“Where have you applied?” Junmyeon asks, evidently interested since he shares Minseok’s major.

“With any company that’s hiring anywhere in Korea,” Minseok types.  “I’m not too picky.”

But the room falls strangely silent, the commercial playing in the background suddenly obnoxiously loud.

“You don’t plan to stay in Seoul?” Yixing asks gently, eyes flicking from Minseok’s face to Jongdae’s.

 _Shit._  His fingers move rapidly over the touchscreen.  “I will if Jongdae wants,” he amends. “I’ve been applying for months.  I didn’t expect to end up with a mate.”

The tension dissolves a bit, but Baekhyun chooses that moment to open his mouth.

“When was the last application you sent out?” he asks, eyes hard.

“About a week ago, I think,” the robotic voice answers.

“After your little date.  So surely that firm is in Seoul?”

Minseok winces.  “Busan.”

There are a few gasps, but Chanyeol scowls at the smaller man.  “Baek, I’m sure he wouldn’t take Dae from us.”

“Then what?” Baekhyun snaps.  “He’s planning to abandon Jongdae instead?”

Stricken, Minseok turns to the beta at his side, ready to defend himself.  But Jongdae’s arm tightens around Minseok’s shoulders, and he’s not glaring at his mate.  Instead, his hard eyes are fixed on his best friend.

“He didn’t know,” Jongdae growls.  “and even if he did, it’s his right.  He’s not obligated to this pack; if he wants to go to Busan, then we go to Busan.”

“That’s so much fucking bullshit!  You always said you’d never let an alpha push you around, Kim Jongdae, and now look at you, you fucking bootlicker!”

“Baekhyun!” Junmyeon barks.  “If you’re going to be rude, you can watch the game somewhere else.”

Baekhyun opens his mouth but before the irate beta can speak, the J-pop robot voice does instead.

“I’ll stay in Seoul.  I won’t abandon Jongdae.  He belongs here with his pack.”

“I belong with my mate,” Jongdae declares.  “But I won’t complain about having both.” He grins at Minseok before rubbing his chiseled cheekbone against the alpha’s shoulder.

“Your mate wants you to be happy,” Minseok types, earning a chorus of coos from the pack and a smacky kiss on the cheek from the beta.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Baekhyun doesn’t antagonize Minseok any more after that, instead tucking himself against Sehun’s lanky frame to give his best friend’s mate distrustful looks.  Determined to prove his devotion, Minseok shamelessly demonstrates how whipped he is for his beta. He keeps trying to spoil his mate—rubbing his shoulders, hand-feeding him little snacks or candies, playing with his hair.  But Jongdae keeps trying to do similar things for Minseok, resulting in several playful tussles to achieve a goal before the other.

There’s a lot of cooing and/or exaggerated retching from the pack whenever the newly-mated pair are allowed to focus on each other for any length of time.

Minseok can’t help but get clingier as the evening wanes, not at all looking forward to returning to his dorm alone after spending almost a week in Jongdae’s constant company.  He may have been a lone wolf from birth but it’s very clear that’s not how Minseok was built. He may not be the most gregorius but he craves affection more than he’d ever allowed himself to admit before.  Now that it’s so freely offered, that his own affection is so enthusiastically received, Minseok can’t get enough of either.

It’s after midnight when Minseok forces himself to his feet, giving Jongdae one last cuddle and an open-mouthed kiss before letting go, making his instincts violently protest in a way that evidently has more to do with mating than rutting.  Ignoring the urge to bury his face in Jongdae’s neck forever, Minseok waves and bows his goodnights before shuffling toward the entryway to retrieve his shoes.

“Uh, I guess we’re out,” Jongdae says with an apologetic chuckle, his voice following Minseok down the hallway.  “Hyung, before you put your shoes on, come pick out some of my sweatshirts and stuff while I grab more underwear.”

Brain and body stalled mid-stride, Minseok pivots to regard his beta over his shoulder.  His bewildered look makes Jongdae chuckle again.

“I’m going to make you wear them, so it’s only logical that we should take the ones you like the best.”

At Minseok’s continuing statue impression, Jongdae rolls his eyes above an indulgent smile.  He steps up to grab Minseok’s hand but the alpha uses his superior strength to haul Jongdae close enough to easily whisper in his ear.

“I’ll take some of your shirts home to wear if you want, but I have plenty of my own underwear.”

“It won’t seem like plenty with two of us going through it,” Jongdae laughs.  “And my own jeans fit a little better.”

Minseok blinks.  

“Come on, help me pack.  We’ll have to move the rest of my stuff over later—I don’t feel like carrying a keyboard back without a car.”  Jongdae goes to pull away but Minseok holds fast.

“Dae, you don’t have to stay with me anymore.  My rut is over, and I’m sure you missed your pack.”  Minseok isn’t going to give that pack any suspicions that the alpha is pushing Jongdae around.  He can handle being on his own again—he’s more than used to it, and he’s a strong independent alpha again instead of a needy hormonal mess.

Jongdae pulls away enough to regard Minseok with narrowed eyes.  “Hyung, do you not _want_ me to move in with you?”

Whatever Minseok’s face does in response to the indignant question makes Jongdae’s concern bloom into a cautious smile.

“I don’t—” Minseok starts, whisper fading into a sigh.  “I love being your mate. But you have your own life and I respect that.  I’m happy to have whatever free time you want to give me—you don’t have to make any sacrifices on my behalf.”

Jongdae’s face contorts through several different expressions before settling into forced neutrality, eyes closed and mouth pressed into a line.  Deflating on a frustrated huff, he curves forward to press his forehead against Minseok’s.

“Hyung.  Have you ever known any true-mated couples before?”

“Not closely.”

“Okay, well.  My moms are true-mated.  It physically _hurts_ when they’re separated for too long.  Haven’t you felt unsettled whenever we’ve been apart since our date?”

“Yes…” Minseok admits, growing calmer with each inhalation of his beta’s clean coppery scent.  He’d attributed it to his own emo somebody-actually-voluntarily-kissed-me tangle of feelings, though.  Mate-bonded soulsheer hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Well, now that we’re properly mated, it’s only going to get worse.  We’re meant to be together—not attached at the hip if you don’t want, but sleeping alone is going to be uncomfortable for both of us.  If you really value your own space, it should be manageable if we keep eating lunch together during the week and spend a little time together on weekends, but you seemed to like sharing a bed with me even after your rut broke.”

“I did.  I do.” Minseok puts his hands on Jongdae’s hips, stomach flipping at the idea of getting to hold him every night.

“Good.  In which case, I assume you’d rather stay in your single rather than share a room with me and Baek.”

Minseok snorts.  “Baekhyun is likely to slit my throat in my sleep—properly this time.”

“He will not.  He just hates being left by himself.  But I’ll visit every weekend and they’ll probably reshuffle roommates so he’s not alone anymore and it’ll be fine.  We weren’t going to share a room forever in any case.”

“So you’re moving in with me?”  Minseok’s lips are twitching as he fights to maintain a little dignity in his facial expression.

“I’d like to.  If you hate it after a week or so, we can—”

Minseok crushes his beta against him, grinning lips brushing Jongdae’s ear as he whispers.

“I won’t hate it.”

Jongdae squeaks something that might contain the word “breathe.”  Cheeks hot, Minseok relaxes his grip but he doesn’t let go and he’s given up trying to resist grinning at his beta—his Dae.  And Jongdae shakes his head in mock exasperation before cupping Minseok’s jaw to pull him into a kiss.

They don’t separate until Zitao complains that the front hallway isn’t an appropriate place to make out.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Each wearing an incredibly overstuffed backpack full of Jongdae’s things, the newly mated pair is being hugged goodbye by the entire pack and Minseok’s cheeks are in full flush.  It’s so strange to go from no one touching him ever to having seven smiling guys line up to hug him. Baekhyun is still glowering at him from a corner of the living room, however.  Jongdae is hugging his disgruntled friend and speaking to him softly, and whatever he says eventually causes Baekhyun to soften enough to begrudgingly hug Jongdae back.

Ribs a little sore from being squozen so thoroughly, Minseok approaches the best friends with a cautious smile.  While being treated like gum on the bottom of a shoe is almost reassuringly familiar, he’d rather not have his mate’s closest pal plotting ways to get his best friend back from the freaky albino alpha.  

Jongdae smiles at Minseok’s approach, serifed lips parting ahead of some amusing quip judging by the glint in his beta’s eye.  But before his perfect mate can speak, someone opens the front door.

“Honey, I’m hooome!”

A wave of leathery alpha scent washes into the house along with the words and everyone freezes.  The puppies that had been milling about the pack’s feet simultaneously perform cartoonish scrambles, nails scrabbling uselessly against the hardwood floors for a moment before they manage to scatter in all directions.

“I got you all presents since I was away for so long.  I really missed you guys, especially my little ChenChen…” The alpha steps into the room, looking around as if for a specific face.  “Where is he? Shouldn’t you be the first in line to greet your alpha?”

When his eyes land on Minseok, they bounce away for a split second before snapping back, and Minseok imagines that his own expression mirrors the shock, alarm, and disgust on the new alpha’s face.

“You!” he growls, taking a step towards Minseok with a hand outstretched.  “You fucking _murderer!_  I’ll kill you!”

 _Nice to see you again, too,_ Minseok thinks as he steps forward, putting himself between his mate and the threat. His heart is trying to tear apart because he knows he’s about to be permanently separated from his newfound mate and it’s already killing him.  But he has to take care of Jongdae before thinking of himself even if that means sleeping alone and dealing with the ache of the soulsheer. It’s not going to hurt nearly as much as the guilt of knowing Jongdae’s suffering as well because the triune gods saw fit to tie him to an abomination.

But there’s no way to keep his perfect mate by his side without wrenching him away from his family.   _Family_ is still Minseok’s bane—he’s doomed to be forever without one himself even as the familial connections of others spell the end of Minseok’s association with his mate and his pack.

This alpha that is obviously the missing leader is also Huī Láng’s cousin.  He’d visited the Dawnhart pack several times and had always seemed exceedingly uncomfortable around the albino freak.  

Now they’re all going to hear this guy’s account of Minseok’s exile and unless he wants to find himself in the Arena of Justice again, there’s no way he could ever prove himself to these strangers when he couldn’t even convince the guy he’d grown up with to listen to his side of the story.

Except Jongdae doesn’t remain sheltered by Minseok’s back.  He shifts to stand at his side, and Kyungsoo and Sehun move to flank the pair.

“He’s not a fucking murderer,” Jongdae spits, his scent growing electric with anger.  “He defended his innocence in the arena, and you’re an asshole for saying otherwise when he already carries so much grief and guilt.”

The tall alpha blinks.  “Chen?” he gapes. “You’re defending this unholy fiend?”

“He’s not a fiend, he’s my mate,” Jongdae snarls, trying to stick his shoulder in front of Minseok’s, as if the alpha needed to be shielded from the taller man’s wrath.

“Your _what!?”_

Junmyeon steps forward, raising a placating hand to the tall alpha’s chest.  “I know you enjoyed playing with Jongdae, Yifan, but Minseok-hyung is his true mate.  They’re happy.”

“Happy?” Yifan—not the name Huī Láng had called his cousin, but that seems like a minor detail at the moment—growls loud enough to make the omegas flinch a little.  “I’m not letting my ChenChen mate with that filthy traitor—”

“He’s not a traitor,” Jongdae snarls, again trying to shoulder in front of the line of alphas.  “And you don’t get to leave for six fucking months without talking to any of us even fucking once and then come back like some fucking homecoming hero and tell us what to do.”

“He is a traitor!  He killed my cousin, after all that poor boy had done for the fucking freak!”

“Fucking call him that again!” Jongdae screams through inhuman teeth, jumping forward as if to challenge the much larger alpha all by himself.  

Minseok catches the beta’s wrist and pulls him back, unwilling to let him get within the other alpha’s reach.  Jongdae struggles a bit but Minseok uses his alpha strength to wrap the beta tight in his arms. Jongdae thrashes in his grip, fingernails becoming claws and face distorting further around impossibly-large teeth.  He’s struggling hard enough to drag Minseok forward a step and fear zings down the alpha’s spine as he realizes his hot-tempered mate is actually a Berserker.

Once the hallmark of elite champions of emperors and kings, the trait that connects certain betas to their wilder DNA is considered mostly lost along with the ability to fully shift.  There have been a few documented cases in Minseok’s lifetime but they’ve been few and far between. The beta writhing in his grasp is only the tenth or so Berserker Minseok has ever heard of and part of the alpha is glowingly proud to have the incredible honor of being such a one’s true mate.

The rest of him is mourning even more because he’s about to leave his perfect mate behind, proving correct Baekhyun’s snide prediction of abandonment.  But what else can he do? This beautiful dream is over, and it’s time for Minseok to wake the fuck up to reality.

There’s only one way out of this that doesn’t involve bloodshed of some kind, and Minseok will not allow his Berserking beta to hurt himself or anyone else in his blind fury.  Nor does he ever want to experience the Justice ever again. Since the Exo pack won’t take kindly to an outsider slaying their much-missed alpha, Minseok unleashes all his power in an aphonic growl that has the Exo pack pinned to the floor except for the now-limp beta cradled against his chest.

Since Jongdae’s going to hate him after this, Minseok takes a moment to make sure he understands the feeling isn’t mutual.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers into his mate’s fury-reddened ear. “I love you for trying. I’ll always love you, Jongdae.”

Then he gently lays the immobilized boy on the sofa, shrugs off the backpack, and picks up the tablet, releasing soundless snarls continuously to keep the entire Exo pack flattened while he types out his apology.  Setting it to play, he walks past the seething Chinese alpha and out the door.

“I’m so sorry for ruining what was a very enjoyable party.  The food was excellent and the companionship even more so, until what I am caught up with me once again.

“For what it’s worth, I never touched Huī Láng’s sister.  I’m quite sure she was an enthusiastic participant in the makings of her own pregnancy, and furthermore I’d bet the father is the omega Zhoumi.  A DNA test would have proved this, but Huī Láng’s immediate belief of the accusations against me was more painful than facing death, so I tried to let him kill me.  What else did I have to live for without the only person who’d ever seemed to care?

“But although I’m an aberration, I’m still an alpha, so reflex and instinct took over once his fangs sunk into my throat.  I genuinely didn’t mean to kill him. The Justice proved me innocent, but I’ll never stop feeling guilty.

“I am truly sorry I couldn’t be a better mate to Jongdae, who was like the morning sun after a long winter’s night.  He believed me worthy of him, which is a feeling I’ll treasure for the rest of my wretched life. But despite his optimism, it turns out that I’m doomed to be unlucky after all, so it’s better if we part ways.

“It doesn’t matter what I _do._  It never has.  All that matters is what I _am,_ as that’s enough for the world to assign me the blame.  I won’t drag Jongdae down with me, or any of the rest of you good-hearted people.  There are only a few months left before I graduate, and I won’t spend them eating in the cafeteria to spare you from awkward interactions.

“Please take good care of the mate I never deserved to keep.”

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Minseok never did manage to get his keycard back, and his RA doesn’t answer the knocks the alpha pounds into the metal of his door.  Unable to phone anyone for help—whispering into a phone call with a stranger is a sure way to get one’s number blocked—Minseok just hunkers miserably against his door, waiting for the resident assistant to return.

But it isn’t the RA that finds him an hour later.  Much to Minseok’s surprise, it’s the citrus-scented beta that squats down against the wall beside him, handing over the keycard along with Chanyeol’s tablet.

“I’d have come sooner,” Baekhyun says.  “But _someone_ is so fucking powerful that we couldn’t get up for like ten minutes, and that _same_ someone set their gut-punching message on repeat, so it was fucking Tear-mageddon at the Exo pack house for a good half an hour, asshole.”

“Sorry,” Minseok types.  “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Well, you fucking failed there, because my pack is fucking _soft_ and their hearts are in jagged little pieces.   _Especially_ Jongdae, so I couldn’t leave until he’d screamed himself unconscious, dipshit.”

“Sorry,” Chanyeol’s tablet repeats.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, headass.  You have to fucking _fix_ this.”

Minseok looks up from his sneakers to see Baekhyun pinning him to the metal door with eyes that currently look more predatory than puppyish.  “How am I supposed to do that?” he types. “I don’t want to fight Yifan and I’d never try to take Jongdae away from his pack.”

“In Yifan’s defense, he wasn’t there for the accusation or the Justice, and you’d run away by the time he arrived to finalize the pack’s business arrangements.  He got the story from this sister you were accused of assaulting, and she’s hardly going to admit she made it up to avoid the stigma of an unplanned, unmated pregnancy caused by an _omega_ of all things when she’s an alpha herself.  What the fuck else was he supposed to believe?”

Minseok shrugs in response to Baekhyun’s glare, staring at his toes again.

“Anyways, you don’t have to fight Yifan because the rest of the pack already did that for you.  He’s locked himself in his room, scared to come out because Jongdae went fucking nuclear and it took both of our furious alphas and both our oversized omegas to sit on his Berserking ass until he passed the fuck out and we could tie the little fucker up before he actually killed anyone.  Meanwhile, Junmyeon and Yixing are yelling through Yifan’s door in multiple languages, and Jongin’s cuddling various dogs and sobbing. Since I don’t even like your ass, I’m the only one stable enough to come here and kick it.”

Minseok pokes a finger at the tablet, but Baekhyun catches it.  “If you’re going to type another useless apology, just save it,” he huffs.  “You didn’t trust your mate or the pack to back you up, so now you’ve got to clean up this mess all by yourself.”  

Baekhyun stands up to glare down at the still-hunkered alpha.  “Don’t even think about fucking running away again, Kim Minseok.  I get that your life hasn’t been easy, but very few people get a cushy ride.  Don’t come at me with your boo-hoo-I’m-a-freak emo bullshit when, just within Exo pack, we have a recovering morphine addict, a former homeless whore, and a guy who, as a young teenager, lost his single mom to cancer and his little sisters to the foster care system.”

He strides away to the elevator lobby, calling over his shoulder.  “You can give Myeon-hyung shit, though. He’s always been a rich, privileged fuck.  But then again, he sticks around to take care of the rest of us misfits, even when the going gets rough.”  He raises a meaningful eyebrow, then disappears between the sliding silver elevator doors.

Minseok just stares after him for a moment before burying his face against his drawn up knees.

 _Well, fuck._  Hiding himself away never sounded so appealing.

But the image of his mate tied up and screaming is impossible to hide from.

How the hell is Minseok supposed to fix things?  He’s an engineer, for fuck’s sake; a group of people not often known for excessive social skills even without being a boo-hoo-emo-freak.  Minseok’s only tried to fix a misunderstanding rather than accepting it once, and that had failed spectacularly. But his instincts had saved him then, so he’ll trust them to save him now.

His instincts demand that he reclaim his perfect mate.  His instincts also say _If you’re an engineer, engineer already._  Fixing is a lot easier when the problem is physical, but building is building.  And Minseok, while owning his past, is about to build a motherfucking future.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Minseok announces his return to the Exo pack house several hours later by kicking the brass plate at the base of the white-painted door, the blows of his boots jarring the door in its frame.  He wants attention but he doesn’t mean to be overly aggressive—it’s just that his hands are full.

This time, it’s Jongin who wades through the pack of opinionated puppies, still adorably gorgeous even with his eyes puffy and his cheeks streaked with tears.

“I’m not sure I’m supposed to let you in,” Jongin says.  “But we do really need a better shoe rack, so I’m gonna risk the wrath.”  He holds the door open wide to let Minseok in without whacking his burdens on the doorframe, peering over the shorter alpha to notice the flat-bed cart still on the patio.  “Do you need any help?”

 _More than you fucking know, kid,_ Minseok thinks, but he just nods.

The two of them are just carrying the last of the boxes into the living room when Baekhyun’s bellow precedes him down the hallway.  “Jongin-ah, it’s your turn to—” The beta’s voice and body freeze as he takes in the various packages piled in the living room, and the corpse-pale figure standing beside a glowing golden one.

“Well.  I’m not sure what I expected, but this isn’t it.”  He leans to better identify the large box the mismatched pair just set down.  “Is that a fucking _TV?_ ”

Minseok nods.  Given the absolute silence clogging the entire Exo pack house, the alpha inhales deeply enough to project his whisper the few meters necessary.  “You told me to fix it. I’m fixing.”

Baekhyun blinks in response to the breathy un-voice, but recovers quickly.  “Okay, but I was referring to your relationship with Jongdae more than our precarious entertainment situation.”

“This _is_ about Jongdae,” Minseok puffs.  “I’m investing. Taking care of our pack.  Providing, like a good, dedicated alpha.”

“ _Our_ pack, huh?”  Baekhyun arches an elegant brow.  

Minseok nods.

The hint of a smile graces Baekhyun’s still-stern face.  “Then Jongin and I will be dependable, direction-following betas and put this shit together while you prance your dedicated ass down the hallway to face your fate.  It’s the third door on the left.”

Nodding again, Minseok squares his shoulders, grabbing the overstuffed box of potential peace offerings and padding cautiously over the hardwood in his sock-covered feet.

“Good luck, hyung!” Jongin whisper-shouts after him, which Minseok really appreciates.

The unlucky albino is going to need all the good luck he can get.

As he approaches the third room on the left, voices leak out of the cracked-open door.

“Gonna kill him,” someone rasps, voice wrecked and barely above a whisper.

“Get in line,” answers Kyungsoo, in a tone that indicates he’s said similar things many times already.

Well, this doesn’t bode particularly well.

“I should be first,” the rasp declares.  “He insulted _my_ mate.”

Minseok’s already-cracked heart shatters a little more.  Poor Jongdae has evidently screamed himself hoarse. Minseok is the worst mate ever.  Yet somehow, it doesn’t seem to be his death they’re discussing.

“He insulted all of us,” Tao replies, voice soft and a little frayed.  “That fucker ignored us for six fucking months!”

“Which is why I’m going to kill him,” Jongdae reiterates, voice like sandpaper against Minseok’s ears.

Slightly reassured that at least he’s not first on the pack hit list, Minseok toes the door the rest of the way open.

Four sets of dull eyes lift at his entrance, but Jongdae’s gaze remains on the wall opposite his face.  Of course, that could be because he’s hogtied with what appears to be garish neckties and is indeed being sat on by his friends, just as Baek had reported.  And worst of all, the room fucking reeks of crackling rage and static despair.

Minseok’s not sure what horrified face he’s making, but Sehun’s melts with relief.  “Oh thank fuck,” he sighs. “The cavalry has arrived.”

“You came back," Chanyeol gasps, looking up at him with moisture-laden eyes.

“About time,” Kyungsoo grumbles.

Tao just stares at him with a conflicted expression, but Jongdae, immobilized from the neck down, exercises the few muscles he still has control over to turn his head away.

Even though Minseok had expected a similar reaction, even though he knows he deserves it, it still fucking hurts.

Renewing the set of his jaw, Minseok steps into the room and sets the box down, kneeling beside the over-occupied bed.  He pulls Chanyeol’s tablet out of the box first, triggering it to play the carefully-composed “song” that is his apology speech.

“I know I failed you,” the robotic voice intones, and the rest of the room goes still.  Nobody fidgets, nobody murmurs, and Minseok is painfully aware of all eyes on him.

“You have every right to be mad.  I was a coward, and have been most of my life,” it continues as Minseok takes shallow breaths, hating that every inhalation drags the scent of sadness into his lungs.  “I fucked up really badly, and I’m completely clueless about all of this mate shit. I think I’m supposed to bring you something to apologize, but I barely know you, Dae.  I don’t even know your favorite color, for fuck’s sake.”

He starts grabbing things from the box and setting them in a line along the mattress, right in Jongdae’s line of sight.  As he does so, the tablet continues to explain why Minseok thought the beta might appreciate each gift, musical rests programming in pauses at appropriate moments.

“These are the things I do know about Kim Jongdae, my perfect unexpected mate.  You constantly surprise me, so I didn’t bring you anything boring or predictable like flowers or chocolate.  But you do have a sweet tooth and you like eating weird stuff, so I brought you a candied scorpion on a stick.”  At this cue, Minseok sets the lurid green lollipop on the bed.

“And you’re very expressive and forthright, so I brought you an adult coloring book full of calligraphic obscenities.”  Minseok sets the book and a new package of neon colored pencils next to the lollipop.

“You have a juvenile sense of humor, so I brought this ridiculous egg plush.”  Minseok sets the toy briefly in front of Jongdae’s face, then takes it back to “crack” the velcro closure to reveal the anthropomorphic egg yolk inside, setting shell and yolk back in the line of offerings.

“You love music and singing, and you’re a composition major as well.  So I figured you’d probably like Jambinai.” Minseok adds the printout of the will-call ticket information to the line, propping it up against the egg.  That purchase had bitten the most out of his whisky budget, but for Jongdae, he’d spend any amount. Having textbooks for class is overrated. “There are four tickets.  You don’t have to take me if you can’t stand me anymore.”

Minseok reaches for the last items in the box, and when he pulls them out he finally gets a ripple of smothered reactions from the very-attentive peanut gallery.

“But if you can stand me, or if you want to work out some hatred and anger, I noticed that you enjoyed fucking me during my rut.”  Minseok sets the huge bottle of silicone-based lube down, dropping the stainless steel cockring neatly over the neck of the bottle.  “You can have me however you want, Dae. Sex or no sex, mate or no mate—you once said you wanted to win my smile, so I hope you’ll give me the chance to earn yours again.”

Both omegas stifle a coo at this last bit, but Minseok doesn’t react as the robotic speech ends.  He just sits back on his heels and waits to see if he’s gained his mate’s attention.

For a moment, there’s total silence as five of them literally hold their breath, focusing on the immobilized beta.

“...Hyung,” comes the broken rattle from Jongdae’s throat.  “This egg yolk has asscheeks.”

The collective exhale is comically loud.

Finally daring to smile, Minseok whispers his reply, lips moving just behind Jongdae’s head.  “That’s because I’ve been an ass.”

“Hmm,” Jongdae responds.  “Guess I’ll have to fuck that ass.”

“Anytime,” Minseok whispers.

Jongdae huffs.  “If I promise not to murder anyone, can you fatasses get the fuck off me?”

“Oh, we don’t care what _you_ promise,” Kyungsoo replies.  “We care if Minseok-hyung will agree to restrain your ass if you Berserk again.”

Minseok makes the cross-my-heart gesture.

Kyungsoo produces a pair of medical scissors.  “You’ll have to cut the ties off,” he says as he gets up off the beta.  “But they’re Junmyeon’s and he has terrible taste so don’t worry about it.”

“We’ll get him classy ones for his birthday to replace these, won’t we, Hunnie?” Tao adds.

Sehun scoffs.  “Fuck that, what about _my_ birthday?  What do I have to do to get a hottie to give _me_ candy and a sex toy?”  He and Tao stand up as well, liberating Jongdae’s legs.

“Candy and a sex toy?  That’s what you kids were impressed by?” Chanyeol asks, hopping off Jongdae’s pelvis.  “What about the Jambinai tickets? Dae, you’ll take me with you, right?”

Kyungsoo pushes the other three toward the door.  “Not if you interfere with their makeup sex, he won’t.”  Looking over his shoulder, he meets Minseok’s eyes. “He’s supposed to be resting his voice, though, so maybe wad up those ties and gag him with them.”  

Minseok salutes.

As Kyungsoo pulls the door closed, Minseok can hear him mutter to himself.  “I wonder if I can find a recipe for scorpions?”

Jongdae snorts.  “I hope he does. I think Baek would cry if someone put a scorpion on his plate.  He hates bugs.”

Minseok snorts, too.  “He loves you, though,” he whispers as he carefully cuts his mate free.

“Yeah, he does,” Jongdae agrees, rolling onto his back and flexing his shoulders and wrists.  He picks up the egg yolk plushie, laughing at its round little buns before turning it around to see its frumpy little face. “Hmm.  Reminds me of someone.” He holds it up next to Minseok, who obligingly attempts to mimic the plush toy’s expression.

Jongdae chuckles, pulling Minseok down to fall on top of him, jostling the other offerings lined up on the bed.  Thrilled but still cautious, Minseok waits, offering his mate a hopeful little smile. Jongdae sighs, rolls his eyes, and sets the egg toy aside to cup the alpha’s face in both hands.

“Kim Minseok, if you ever pull that paralyze-and-abandon shit on me again, I will finish what Huī Láng started, you ultra-dramatic fucker.”

“Fair,” Minseok whispers.

“How fucking dare you tell me you love me for the first time as you do your best to break my fucking heart?”

“Sorry.”

“You fucking _better_ be,” Jongdae snarls.  “You’re going to be making this up to me for a while.”

“Also fair.”

Jongdae blesses him with the briefest of kisses.  “I’m taking Baek, Yeol, and Yixing-hyung to see Jambinai.  I think they’ll appreciate the style fusion the most.”

“I’m sure they’ll love it,” Minseok smiles.

Jongdae grants him another kiss, slightly longer.  “I’m going to find the most offensive insult in that book, color it in very carefully, and tape it to your dorm room door.”

“Can’t wait,” Minseok grins.

Jongdae’s smiling, now, too, and the kiss he allows is deeper, tongue swiping against Minseok’s own.

“And I am definitely going to put that cock ring on you.  See how much teasing you can take.”

“I’ve got stamina, but I’ve never been teased,” Minseok whispers.  “I’ll be just as curious as you.”

Another kiss, then a smirk.  “Hyung, you’ve been living under a sexual rock.  I’m going to find out all your kinks, then use them against you mercilessly.”

“Can’t wait,” Minseok whispers again.  “And I’ll give you one for free—I love the way you call me Hyung.”

“Hyuuung,” Jongdae immediately moans through a smirk, then laughs when their close proximity lets the beta feel Minseok’s cock twitch in his pants.  “I can definitely work with that.”

Another filthy kiss is exchanged, then Jongdae pulls away with a wicked little smile.  “I’ll give you one of mine for free, too; one that I never knew I had until you.”

Minseok lifts a brow.

“You’d better never fucking alpha-growl at me and then run away, but if you wanna growl at me and then pounce on your unresisting prey sometime, that could be fun.”

“Duly noted,” Minseok whispers, wearing a smirk of his own.

Another wet, probing kiss.  “Now tell me what I want to hear, asshole.”

Minseok grins, then leans down so his lips are right next to his mate’s ear.  “I love you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae shivers and sighs.  “I love you, too, Hyung.”

Having already spent far more whispered words in one day than his poor throat is used to, Minseok switches to the language of lips and tongue, hands and hips, body and soul.  He voicelessly expresses his love for his beta, his mate, his Jongdae, until both of them are panting.

Jongdae is the first to pull away.  “You’ve built up quite the blowjob debt during your rut.  Now seems like a good time to make your first repayment.”

Minseok grins.  He’s rather proud of his oral skills.  While an in-heat omega’s pheromones make alphas more than willing to fuck all day long, there are still biological limitations to how often a non-rutting guy can get hard, no matter how horny he is.  Therefore, Minseok had learned to keep needy omegas placated with his lips and tongue until his dick caught up again. And if he can hold off an in-heat omega’s whines, he’s quite sure he can entertain his beta more than adequately.

“Promise to stay quiet and I’ll promise to make you feel incredible,” the alpha’s whisper offers.

“Deal.”  Ever impatient, Jongdae has his pants unzipped and his underwear out of the way so his half-hard cock can continue to plump under Minseok’s reverent gaze.

“Your cock is so _pretty,_ Dae,” Minseok whispers hot against Jongdae’s ear.  Then he shimmies down the bed to finally wrap his lips around what had taunted him every time his beta rode him during his rut.

Minseok has never had a more perfect cock in his mouth.  It really is pretty, jutting proudly from a nest of soft curls and curving slightly toward Jongdae’s taut little abs.  In lieu of the moans he’s not supposed to be making, Jongdae twitches and writhes as Minseok uses lips and tongue to coat his mate’s dick in his saliva.  This is _his_ cock as much as it is Jongdae’s so he makes sure to lick every delicious bit.

“Fuck, so good,” Jongdae huffs under his breath.

Minseok’s lips curve around their prize.  His mate can barely speak but he’s going to hiss and sigh a stream of chatter anyway.  His beta really can’t help himself and Minseok doesn’t want him to.

“Please, Hyung, suck me,” Jongdae whispers, followed by “Oh, fucking _fuck._ ”

Minseok’s breathy chuckle puffs out through his nose as he thoroughly dismantles his beta, sucking at that pretty fuchsia head before swallowing his Dae’s entire length.  He relaxes his throat at first to convince his gag reflex it’s not needed, then swallows repeatedly to flutter his pharynx around the end of that delicious cock.

“Fucking—” Jongdae cuts off his fully-voiced expletive by tangling his fingers in Minseok’s hair, tugging to express the intensity of his pleasure.

Minseok gleefully repeats anything he tries that results in his scalp stinging.  He slides a hand beneath Jongdae’s shirt to rest it on those twitchy little abs, loving the spasming breaths and increasing tension beneath his palm.  He smiles when tugging his hair isn’t enough and his beta starts more voiceless cursing, and when he’s only able to pant out a single syllable per breath Minseok goes in for the kill.

He swallows Jongdae all the way again, this time flexing his throat immediately, repeatedly, twice, three, four times.  With a full-body convulsion and a half-audible hiss, Jongdae coats Minseok’s tonsils. Full of smug satisfaction, Minseok happily swallows what he’s given, then crawls back over Jongdae’s lax body to claim a proud kiss.

“I’m impressed with my vocal mate’s ability to suppress himself,” Minseok whispers into Jongdae’s ear.

Jongdae snorts.  “I share a room and this house has two bathrooms for ten people.  I’ve learned how to orgasm quietly.”

“I can offer you the use of a private room with its own bathroom whenever you want,” Minseok dares to whisper, gut clenching around the possibility his mate is still willing to move in with him.

Jongdae pushes at Minseok’s shoulders until he lifts his body enough for his mate to tuck himself back into his pants.  Then the beta reverses their positions, rolling his hips against Minseok’s unsatisfied arousal.

“I’m still mad at you,” he mumbles.

Lips between his teeth, Minseok nods, ignoring his aching groin.  As a Berserker’s true mate, Minseok is prepared to pay the price for his mistakes.  He’s also just as determined never to piss his beta off this badly ever again.

“I’m more mad at Yifan, though,” Jongdae sighs.

Minseok frowns, but Jongdae shakes his head and continues.  “I know he just believed what he’d been told—I’m not mad at him for being surprised to see you, being upset about what happened to the Dawnhart pack, or trying to protect me from someone he considered a threat.  I’m mad at him for calling you a fiend and a freak. I’m mad at him for reaffirming in your mind that it’s normal for people to hate you because of how you were born; that your character and the things you do will never outweigh the DNA you have no control over.”

Jongdae’s voice gets raspier as it increases in volume.  “It’s just fucking _stupid,_ because that DNA also made you strong as fuck.  I mean, if you were really some evil hellspawn, wouldn’t you have just used your incredible charisma to send your teachers to their knees, to force the kids to leave you alone, to fuck anyone you wanted to, including Huī Láng himself?  The entire Dawnhart pack could have been your personal playthings, so why would you wait so long to knock up the sister if that’s what you wanted? Why wouldn’t you have just alpha-growled your way out of the accusation or forced her to keep quiet about the father in the first place?  None of it makes any sense!”

Concerned that the beta is damaging his voice further, Minseok shushes him, pulsing just a little alpha-insistence at his irate mate.  

Jongdae frowns at him, but his voice is closer to a whisper when he speaks again.  “Oh, so _now_ you use your badass powers for evil?”

“Gotta make sure you heal,” Minseok whispers, pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s throat.  “Wanna hear you sing again.”

The beta smirks.  “There are more fun ways to shut me up.”

Minseok rolls his eyes but leans up to kiss him again, forcing himself to ignore the sounds of the precarious row of apology offerings finally dropping to the floor.  Jongdae’s still wearing Minseok’s hoodie, the thick fabric making him feel warm and cuddly in the alpha’s arms. He also feels strong and sturdy, his slender but solid body fitting perfectly against Minseok’s as the beta pins him to the bed.

For long minutes, the slick sounds of lips against lips are all that can be heard.  Minseok endures the sweet torture of having Jongdae’s attention but not enough friction where he wants it, almost relieved when a soft knock echoes through the door.

“We’re decent,” Jongdae rasps out, and the door opens to reveal Yixing’s dimpled smile.  

“Sorry to interrupt this joyful reunion,” the botanical-scented beta apologizes.  “But Duìzhăng would like to speak to you both, if you can manage not to murder him long enough for the guy to grovel.”

Jongdae scowls.  “That fucker can go die,” he snarls, but Minseok shushes him again, groping for the tablet he’d left on the floor.

Yixing steps into the room to pick up the device and hand it to Minseok, and Jongdae reluctantly shifts his weight enough for the alpha to be able to operate the tablet with two hands.  A moment later, the J-pop voice emerges from the speaker.

“You gave me the chance to apologize,” it intones.  “You’ve known him far longer, and he seems really attached to you.”

Jongdae gapes at him.  “You should hate him with me,” he spits.  “How can you just accept how he’s treated you?”

Minseok’s fingers move quickly over the on-screen keyboard.  “If I hated everyone who was cruel or careless toward me, I’d have no energy to do anything else,” the voice reads out.  “And there’s a difference between expecting certain behavior and accepting that it’s what I deserve.”

Jongdae glares at him for another moment, then sighs, his body melting against Minseok’s.  “Fine, but he’s not coming in here. I don’t want his stink in my room.”

“Then come out when you’re ready,” Yixing squeezes Jongdae’s shoulder.  “We’ll wait in my and Myeon-hyung’s room, since the living room is full of styrofoam and power tools.”

Minseok winces apologetically, but Yixing laughs it off.  “You’ve given the pack something to do besides fret, and it’ll be a nice change to nag the kids to put their shoes in the rack instead of merely cursing whoever’s left theirs in the most hazardous position.”

After the gentle man leaves Jongdae buries his face against Minseok’s neck, sighing when the alpha’s arms tighten around his torso.  

“I’m scared to go out there,” Jongdae whines, lips tickling the alpha’s sensitive skin.

“You’re a badass Berserker,” Minseok whispers encouragingly.  Then he frowns. “I can’t believe they tied you up and sat on you.”

Jongdae grimaces.  “Not my proudest moment,” he admits.  “And I’m afraid to go out there because I still really want to hurt him.”

“I won’t let you,” Minseok whispers, face stern.  “I won’t let you taint yourself with that guilt.”

The beta’s face softens.  “You’re hardly guilty if you tried not to and your instincts demanded you survive,” Jongdae says.  “Though I’m unreasonably annoyed that you seriously planned to let him kill you. It’s incredibly unhealthy to allow a single person to carry all the meaning to your life.”

Minseok wraps his arms tighter around the man on top of him.  “Good thing I have my very own self-help beta now,” he huffs, nuzzling into Jongdae’s neck and making him squirm.

“How can you call me that when you’re about to act as my straightjacket?” Jongdae asks, but he’s laughing as he clambers off of Minseok and tugs him to his feet.

“Guess we’re meant to help each other,” Minseok whispers into Jongdae’s ear, then stoops to gather the tumbled gifts off the rug and tuck them back into the box, aligning the edge with the foot of Jongdae’s bed.

Jongdae watches this compulsive tidying with a twinkle in his eyes and a curl in his lip.  “Hyung, has anyone ever told you you have _issues?_ ”

Minseok swats Jongdae’s perky little ass before herding the laughing beta out of the bedroom.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Junmyeon’s room, evidently shared with Yixing, is even messier than Jongdae’s.  Clothes are everywhere, as if a hurricane of laundry had blown through the room.  Minseok’s fingers itch to tidy and straighten, and he’s willing to admit his beta has a point about his _issues._

In the center of the chaos, Yifan is perched on the edge of someone’s bed, looking contrite and reeking of embarrassment.  He’s flanked by a calm Yixing and a wary Junmyeon, and when they look up in response to Jongdae’s knock, all three of them look relieved to see Minseok’s arms wrapped around his mate’s waist.

They shuffle into the room but linger by the open door, and Minseok hooks his chin over Jongdae’s shoulder, unsure of his role in all this but determined to support his mate.  

Nobody speaks for a moment, then with a sigh, Yifan folds into a seated bow.  “Báiyù,” he greets.

“Jiāhéng,” Minseok whispers back as forcefully as he’s able, using the name the other alpha had gone by in China.  He answers the bow awkwardly, keeping a firm grip on his still-incendiary mate.

Yifan shifts a little, directing his gaze at Jongdae.  “Chenny,” he acknowledges with another seated bow.

“Fucker,” Jongdae spits back.  He does not bow.

Yifan’s wince is followed by an awkward silence until Yixing breaks it with a sigh.  As if the frustrated sound broke a spell, Junmyeon shakes himself, then glares at Jongdae.

“This is the part where you say ‘sorry for trying to kill you’ so that Yifan can say ‘sorry for basically deserving it,’” he snaps.

“I’m not all that sorry, though,” Jongdae snipes.  

“I am,” Yifan declares.  “I went straight to defensive-alpha mode when I had no right.  I handled the whole thing poorly from the very beginning, and I definitely deserve your anger.”  He looks up at Minseok. “I’m really surprised that I’m only smelling anger from Jongdae.”

Minseok shrugs from behind his mate.  He can’t type with his arms around Jongdae, and he’s not going to risk getting closer or whisper-shout across the room.  He’s not angry at the guy, but he doesn’t particularly like him, certainly not enough to go out of his way to communicate.

But Jongdae is evidently committed to his role as Minseok’s speaking mouth dog.  “That’s because he’s used to being treated like shit by you and your stupid cousin,” the beta snarls.  “He’s given up being angry about your bigoted bullshit, because he thinks it’s never going to change and therefore isn’t worth getting worked up about.”

Yifan has the decency to hang his head in shame, but Jongdae’s fury isn’t spent.  “And that just makes me want to kill you even more, because seriously, Fan-ge, how could you watch your cousin treat his supposed best friend like that and not see anything wrong with it?”

“It did make me uncomfortable,” Yifan admits, making Minseok’s stomach squeeze a little at this confirmation that he’d been a love-blind idiot while the people around him knew that his relationship with Huī Láng had been a sick joke.  “And I did try to talk to him about it a few times, but he always laughed it off and, well, Báiyù didn’t object—”

“ _Minseok,_ ” Jongdae corrects.  “He’s not a fucking decorative knick knack, he’s an actual person.”

“‘White jade’ isn’t an insult, Jongdae-ya,” Yixing interjects.  “And the hanja for his Korean name mean almost the same thing.”

Jongdae glares at the botanical-scented beta.  “How the fuck do you know what his hanja are?”

Yixing shrugs a little sheepishly.  “Same way Baek knew what jobs he’d applied for—we abused the hell out of the fact that we work in the university’s administrative offices.”

“You stalked my mate?”  Jongdae’s indignation jolts into Minseok’s nose, and he tightens his hold just in case.

“Of course they did, Jongdae-ya,” Junmyeon defends.  “I told them to. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”  

Junmyeon’s glance at Minseok is apologetic, but Minseok just shrugs one shoulder, giving the saline-scented beta a wry little smile.  He understands the need to protect, and it doesn’t feel any more invasive than Chanyeol’s evident social media obsession.

“Focus, Dae,” he whispers into his mate’s ear, and Jongdae’s grumbling subsides.

He lifts heated eyes to Yifan.  “I hope you appreciate the irony of the man you threatened to kill working so hard to keep you safe,” he says sourly.

Yifan flashes a little smile.  “I definitely appreciate both the irony and the effort.  I know I was way out of line, and I admit that I was a bigot and a coward in the past.  Now that Myeon and Xing have smacked the rational thought back into me, I’m ashamed of my behavior and I want both of you to know I wish you the best.  You seem to balance each other nicely, actually. You make a good pair, and you have my blessing, for what it’s worth.”

He rubs the back of his neck, somehow looking small between two guys that are both a head shorter than he is.  “And, uh, thanks for your restraint earlier. You’re way more powerful than I realized, and I’m lucky you’re not what I accused you of being.”

Minseok nods an acceptance of the other alpha’s apology, then rests his chin back on Jongdae’s shoulder as his mate’s low growls rumble through both of them.  All the attention in the room is on the angry beta, and everyone lets him mutter curses under his breath for a few moments before he slumps in Minseok’s arms, dropping his head back against the alpha’s shoulder.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll refrain from attempted alphacide,” Jongdae grumbles.  “But I’m still fucking pissed at you, for leaving us and cutting us off without a word.  You fucking alphas and your need to suffer alone, like your fucking knot will fall off if you ask for help or need support.”

Minseok snorts.  “Sorry,” he whispers, even as Yifan utters a more audible apology.

Jongdae is definitely stealing Minseok’s role as death-glare king.  “I guess I’m glad you’re home and safe or whatever. But I’m moving in with Minseok-hyung and I’m not coming back to visit until I’m more rational about this whole thing.”

“Fair enough,” Yifan says.  “Maybe you guys will come over for dinner in a week or two?  It’ll be a lot easier to have a movie night now—I think Minseok-hyung should at least get to enjoy his thoughtful peace offering.”

Jongdae twists his neck to lift an eyebrow at the alpha behind him, whose shrug frames a self-conscious smile.

“It made me nervous when they moved the TV to watch the game,” he explains in a whisper.  “I just made sure they didn’t have to do that anymore.”

Jongdae’s brows lift.  “I thought Yixing said you’d brought a shoe rack or something.”

Another shrug.  “I did that, too.  If I’m going to spend any time here, I can’t deal with the state of your foyer.”

“For which we are eternally grateful,” Junmyeon smiles.  “I made them install the racks high enough that the puppies shouldn’t be able to make off with anyone’s house slippers unless they leave them lying around, in which case it’s their own fault if they can’t find them.”

Jongdae twists harder, and Minseok allows the beta to turn and face him.  “Wow, Hyung. You really didn’t have to do all that to get me to forgive you.”

Minseok shrugs again.  “It wasn’t only your forgiveness I needed to earn,” he whispers.  “Your best friend is scary.”

Jongdae laughs.  “You’re way more powerful than he is.”

“Maybe, but I have to sleep sometime.”

“I can’t decide if this whispery, raspy conversation we’re only hearing half of is cute or creepy,” Junmyeon mutters.

Yixing chuckles.  “How about we avoid hitting Dae-ya’s Berserk switch in the future so Minseok-hyung can use his tablet?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Yifan agrees.

Jongdae turns over his shoulder to stick his tongue out at the three smiling at him from Junmyeon’s bed.  Then, to Minseok’s total surprise, he bends his knees, grabs the alpha around the hips, and hoists him up off the ground.

Minseok’s soundless yelp turns into an equally-soundless laugh of delight, and he obligingly grips Jongdae’s waist with his bent knees to make it easier for his mate to haul him out to investigate the clamor in the living room.

Tao’s squeal at their arrival—and probably their juxtaposed positions—is definitely not soundless.  Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Sehun also turn to look as Jongdae carries Minseok into the room to drop him on the sofa on top of styrofoam padding and foreign-language assembly instructions.

“Just in time to get out of the hard work,” Chanyeol chides, but he hands Jongdae a small black remote.  There’s only one button on it, and when Jongdae presses it, a sturdy steel arm gently folds down from the ceiling, carrying a decent-sized flatscreen TV with it.

“Whoa,” Jongdae gapes, and his approving noise is echoed by everyone else in the room with working vocal cords.  Minseok just smiles from the sofa, happy that the pack is happy (and that he doesn’t have to watch them almost drop heavy, expensive electronics on each other ever again).

“I guess your stupid, sexy mate can stick around,” Baekhyun says, failing to hide his smile as he drapes an arm over Jongdae’s shoulders.

“I guess our stupid, oversized Duìzhăng can stick around, too,” Jongdae sighs, wrapping his arm around his best friend’s waist.  “But Minseok-hyung and I aren’t coming back here until tempers have fully cooled—mainly my own.”

Baekhyun snorts.  “Probably not a bad idea.  But you better be thinking of ways to compensate me for having to do our kitchen duty all by myself now.”

“How about I take you to see Jambinai?”

“That is acceptable.” Baekhyun attempts bland formality, but the effect is ruined when he jumps up and down and hugs Jongdae two seconds later.

Kyungsoo sticks his head out from the foyer.  “Okay, you slobs—come claim your shoes. A good third of them are missing their mates, so everyone’s going to have to check under their beds for strays.”

Jongin’s head appears above the shorter alpha’s.  “Everyone gets six cubbies,” he announces. “That leaves twelve cubbies for guests, unless Minseok-hyung wants his own—then he can have six as well.”

Since he only has one pair of shoes in the foyer (and Jongdae knows what they look like), Minseok busies himself tidying up the packing materials as the rest of the pack clusters into the foyer.  He smiles at the sounds of bickering as people argue over whose shoes are whose and try to wheedle for extra cubbies.

“You can keep the extras in your room,” Kyungsoo states.  “Just rotate them with the season, TaoTao.”

“But what about Candy’s booties?”

“If you need a shoe rack for your dog, you can spend some of your Gucci fund to buy it yourself.”

“Or put the booties in a baggie and hang it from Candy’s leash hook.”

The bickering subsides, but several pack members are wearing pouts of varying degrees as they carry their excess shoes to their rooms.  When Jongdae returns from his, he’s carrying the box holding Minseok’s presents. He sets it down long enough to shoulder one of the abandoned backpacks.

“Let’s go, Hyung.”  Jongdae gestures with his neck toward the other overstuffed bag.  

As Minseok passes through the foyer on the way out the door, he smiles at the fact that Kyungsoo and Jongin had made good use of all the various hooks he’d included, hanging dog leashes and harnesses in brightly-colored rows and suspending the drone from the ceiling in one corner.

“Feel better, Hyung?” Jongdae chuckles, and Minseok nods.  

He feels much better now that his mess is cleaned up.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Having Jongdae in his space is less blissful than it had been when Minseok was in rut but less annoying than he’d initially feared.  Jongdae is a tidier roommate than his room had indicated, or he at least pretends to be for his mate’s sake.

But it’s still strange to have someone there all the time when he’s used to being alone, even if that someone is wanted and welcome.  Minseok ends up studying a little awkwardly in bed instead of at his desk, but that’s because Jongdae wants to use his mate’s thigh as a headrest while he reads his musical theory text.  He spends longer in the shower than he usually does, but that’s because he and Jongdae are shampooing each other’s hair (and occasionally mis-using the bodywash). And he’s definitely getting fewer hours of sleep, but that’s because Jongdae keeps him up late watching movies, making out, and having non-hormonal sex.

Outside of Minseok’s rut, Jongdae turns out to be a very versatile lover indeed, and Minseok has to tamp down his jealousy whenever the beta demonstrates his greater experience.  But Minseok benefits from his mate’s experience, and he dedicates himself to being a very attentive student. He may have known how to please a partner before, but now he’s learning how to drive his mate insane.

Of course, Jongdae is learning how to do the same to him.  Not that Minseok is really complaining.

Any time he’s touching his mate or Jongdae’s hands are on him for any reason, Minseok is happy.  Luckily for him, Jongdae is naturally cuddly and willing to indulge. He lets Minseok stroke his hair for hours, lets him run his hands reverently over Jongdae’s body when he’s lying nude and spent against Minseok’s side.  Jongdae’s more than happy to massage the tension out of Minseok’s shoulders after a long day of hunching over his books, and he laughingly rubs Minseok’s abs whenever the alpha flops into his lap, tongue lolling and hands held like paws near his face.

“Hyung, you’re so _cute,_ ” Jongdae always coos, even though Minseok forgets to keep his chin tucked once his beta’s hands start moving over him.

It’s just as well, because Jongdae doesn’t like when Minseok deliberately hides his scars.

“They’re part of you,” Jongdae lectures him.  “And I love _all_ of you.  But you don’t have to let your past cloud your present, Hyung.  Terrible things happened to you and you survived. You don’t need to feel guilt or shame about that, so why should you feel ashamed of these incidental marks?  They in no way detract from how gorgeous you are.”

And then he proceeds to suck hickeys all over Minseok’s throat.  

It’s become surprisingly validating to see his neck in the mirror anymore.  His eyes are drawn to the purple hickeys before the dull red of the scar, so he feels a thrill of smug satisfaction that his mate likes claiming him, loves marking him up, and that wave of warm pride washes over and through the drag of icy shame that seeing the scar still elicits.

Sometimes he even smiles at himself as he shaves or brushes his teeth.

He smiles a lot at Jongdae, too.  And he finds himself deliberately doing things—sometimes dumb, cheesy things—to get Jongdae to smile at him.  He serves his beta first at every meal they share. He has the next episode of the show Jongdae’s currently binging cued up and ready to go when his beta gets back to the dorm after class.  And he keeps Jongdae’s favorite squid chips well-stocked on his tidy food shelf.

He is so whipped for his beta.

Minseok may never have expected to find a mate, but he’s grateful for the opportunity to be so whipped.  The more he gets to know his mate, the more he can see exactly how perfect the beta is for him and how nicely they compliment each other.

Because he's a beta, Minseok never has to wonder if Jongdae's attitude towards him is the result of hijacking hormones, and while the alpha's charisma certainly affects him, his pheromones largely do not.  Jongdae may bottom for Minseok more than half the time but he certainly isn't submissive, entirely unafraid to speak his mind and ensure his own needs are met, in bed or out.

But Jongdae isn’t selfish.  He’s thoughtful and indulgent but he's reflexively resistant to being forced to do anything.  If Jongdae's doing something, it's because he's willing, and once he's committed, he sees the task through to the end, even if he sometimes whines his way to the finish line.  For someone who still struggles with accepting that Jongdae’s affection for him is genuine, it’s reassuring that the beta projects all his emotions in neon lights.

Jongdae is perceptive as well, noticing even minute shifts in Minseok’s mood and picking up on signals he’s not even aware he’s emitting.  And while Jongdae often chatters away as Minseok makes dumb heart eyes at his wordy little beta, he’s quieter about it, more of a murmur than a shout.  He makes it easy for Minseok to fully participate in a conversation with head movements and hand gestures, so Chanyeol’s tablet usually lies neglected and Minseok rarely strains himself to whisper to his mate except when they’re tangled in each other’s arms.  

Minseok doesn’t strain himself to communicate when they’re out together, either, because his speaking mouth dog is dedicated to facilitating all his interactions with others.  He does it so naturally, always making Minseok feel included rather than like he’s hovering on the edge of someone else’s conversation. And he always has such good suggestions for dates and outings, things that the under-socialized alpha would never even think about, things that only someone who’d grown up in Seoul would even be aware of.  Minseok has so much fun exploring the city he was born in with his excitable mate towing him around by the hand, their fingers securely interlaced.

He suspects that most other alphas would feel rather patronized by such things, but Minseok’s own instincts have no problem with letting his beta demonstrate his regard for his mate by easing the way.  He never feels undercut or threatened, just relieved that his confident, enthusiastic mate enjoys taking care of the parts of “dating” that Minseok finds intimidating or tedious. Jongdae lays out possibilities, Minseok chooses what to try next.  His mate might not be submissive, but he still does a great job of making the alpha feel respected and in control even as his beta smoothly orchestrates their new life together.

Too bold for most alphas, too attention-craving for most omegas, and too dynamic for most other betas, Minseok’s mate is absolutely perfect for him, and every night he whispers this fact into Jongdae’s ear between I-love-yous.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

The mated pair avoids the Exo pack for ten days, limiting interactions to exchanged nods in the cafeteria.  But Jongdae really does need his pack to be fully happy, so halfway through the second week he convinces Minseok to abandon his lonely table in favor of eating lunch with Exo.  He quickly learns to let the rambunctiousness of the pack wash over him like background noise, calmly eating his food and ignoring the chaos around him. He’s rewarded for his tolerance with Jongdae’s hand resting casually on his thigh under the table.

That weekend Jongdae decides he’s calm enough to go back to the Exo pack house, but only after planning his return like an invading general.  

As promised, he’d beautifully filled in the coloring page with the word “Shitlicker” to tape right under Minseok’s nameplate on his dorm room door.  The word, chosen mostly to offend Minseok’s _issues,_ is outlined in elegant script and surrounded by classy roses growing from dung.

Minseok loves it.

But he also loves that Jongdae has carefully selected and colored vulgarities for each other member of his pack, and he’s carefully packed them to transport without letting his precious art get wrinkled or damaged.  He’s also presenting his packmates with several bottles of soju, because evidently the Exo pack bonds by getting hammered together.

Jongdae has also planned their outfits, not so much for fashion as for scent.  They’re wearing each other’s hoodies, after each original owner had worn the garment for several hours the day prior.  They look very cozy, and they smell very, very mated. It’s the kind of thing that would happen in the cheesy dramas Minseok disdains to watch, but when it’s happening to him in real life, he can’t stop grinning.

They’re welcomed with enthusiasm and hugs and challenged to a Jenga tournament.  By the end of all the fussing and yelling, Baekhyun is actually smiling at Minseok over the pile of collapsed wooden pieces and Chen is wrestling ferociously with an obviously-thrilled Yifan.

Rift mended, they become a fixture at the EXO pack house on weekends, joining in for movie nights or game days or cram sessions before exams.  The weekend after their June finals, the Exo pack is enjoying a picnic on one of the university lawns. It’s a potluck sort of thing to which Jongdae again brings half a dozen bottles of soju.  This is met with cheers and the bottles are quickly opened and poured by Sehun into lurid fluorescent plastic cups.

“To surviving the semester,” the alpha pup toasts.

The sentiment is enthusiastically echoed by the rest of the pack before they empty their cups and hold them out for more, making their maknae roll his eyes but pour another round.

Minseok’s contribution to the festivities is a selection from the huge-ass box of cookies he’d had to collect from the front desk because it wouldn’t fit in his mailbox.  It had arrived just before finals began, another in a series of packages that arrive every few weeks from Jongdae’s mothers, addressed specifically and exclusively to Minseok even though they’re aware that their son also lives in his mate’s dorm room.

They always contain sweet little notes, hand-written on adorable stationery and embellished with cute little drawings.  The first note had made Minseok tear up when he’d read how thrilled the mated women were that their little boy had been lucky enough to find his own true mate.  He’d laughed through those tears at the part where they’d expressed how relieved they were that Jongdae had ended up with someone who had good earning potential (“Because our son has a beautiful voice but very little financial sense”).  He’d been so overwhelmed by this unfamiliar mix of emotions that Jongdae had needed to cuddle Minseok for a good twenty minutes before the alpha felt able to investigate the gallon-sized zip-top bags full of a variety of cookies, all of which had turned out to be delicious.

This is the third box of cookies Minseok has received so far and it makes his heart squeeze every time.  His mate’s moms keep making him cookies. They’ve never even met him—though Jongdae has sent them plenty of photos—and they continue to welcome Minseok to their family with homemade baked goods.

The note this time had wished him luck on his exams and expressed excitement about meeting Minseok over the semester break, a prospect that worries the alpha far more than the exams he’d prepared well for.  They know he’s a scarred albino freak already but Minseok still worries that he won’t measure up to their ideals for their son’s mate, despite Jongdae’s assurances that they already love him and will only adore him more after meeting him in person.

Minseok and Jongdae are taking the train to Siheung tomorrow morning, but for the space of this sunny afternoon, Minseok is determined to relax.  He’s wearing his darkest sunglasses and all exposed skin is slathered in SPF gazillion sunblock that Jongdae keeps re-applying whenever the timer on his phone goes off.  His belly’s full, his vocaloid tablet is at his fingertips, and his mate is sprawled in the grass beside him, head resting on Minseok’s thigh as he plays some sort of hand-held game against Baekhyun, Junmyeon, and Chanyeol.  

Jongin’s laughter fills the air in syncope with Sehun’s as they run around with Exo’s flock of puppies.  Further off, Zitao is “practicing” some Wushu moves with Yifan that mostly seem to be an excuse for the omega to throw the alpha repeatedly on his ass.  Yixing and Kyungsoo are providing the group with musical entertainment, Kyungsoo’s soulful voice accompanied by Yixing’s guitar.

The albino is smiling fondly as he gazes at the pack who’d adopted him despite his shameful past and their turbulent introduction.  They’d all been genuinely delighted when Minseok had traded his lone wolf status for that of a full member of the Exo pack, making their new packmate glow scarlet at all the attention.  

When there’s not a threat to his pack, Yifan has turned out to be a laid-back sort of alpha, introverted but often goofy.  He’d volunteered to permanently relinquish the pack leader role to Junmyeon in the interest of keeping tensions low between the new alpha and the old leader.  As members of equal rank, Yifan and Minseok have been able to find common ground and build their relationship from tentative and polite into something solid and comfortable.  

And Yifan had admitted that even when he’d been the official head of the pack Junmyeon had done all of the hard work so he deserves to enjoy the recognition.  The pack lauds their dedicated leader all the time, but the four alphas still take a perverse pleasure in drinking beer and lounging around while Junmyeon frazzles himself riding herd on the rest of their unruly packmates.  In true tsundere fashion, they always end up helping him out while denying that they should be doing so.

The Exo pack is truly a family, imperfect and loving, obnoxious and loyal.  And they’ve wholly embraced Jongdae’s mate as part of that family, something Minseok isn’t sure he’ll ever fully get used to.

This sunny afternoon, surrounded by his family with his mate lounging against him, Minseok is possibly the most content he has ever been.  Which is why he’s not particularly surprised when someone shows up to shatter his happiness before he starts to take it for granted.

A shadow falls over their picnic blanket along with a wave of sweaty alpha scent.  The pack tenses around Minseok, on alert before a deep voice interrupts Kyungsoo and Yixing’s stripped down version of “Billionaire.”

“There’s no fucking way that little pipsqueak took out Huī Láng.  Are you sure this is the guy?”

The beefy towering alpha is accompanied by a slender strutting omega.  “Uh, of course it’s him?” the bubblegum-scented man says. “He’s pale as the dead and look at his throat.”

Jongdae’s growling already but Minseok just rests his hand on his beta’s shoulder and rolls his eyes behind his aviators.  This sort of thing doesn’t happen constantly but it does happen often enough that the pack has a well-rehearsed protocol.

First, every upright Exo member lowers themselves to the ground.  

Second, Minseok’s speaking mouth dog does his job.

“Back off unless you enjoy being publicly humiliated,” Jongdae snarls.

As expected from someone arrogant enough to march up to a stranger and discuss him as if he were a character on some drama, the gym-sock scented alpha scoffs in disbelief.

So Minseok growls at him, soundless and emotionless.  It never takes much to put these interfering idiots down and Minseok is totally grossed out whenever people actually wet themselves in front of him.

Sure enough, the gossipy pair crumple to the ground, pants still thankfully dry.  They lay there for a moment in confusion as is typical, because without the sound to associate the act to the result it’s understandable not to connect the dots right away.

As soon as the bewildered pair manage to regain their feet, Jongdae gives them a dead-eyed look.  “It’d be a real shame if someone stole your pants or drew dicks on your face while you were incapacitated like that,” he says, sounding bored even though this is the most interesting part of these encounters.

Minseok likes to bet with himself as to how many alpha growls it will take to restore his peaceful existence.  This alpha is a meathead but the omega seems to have a few brain cells to rub together. Minseok bets he’ll have to take them down one more time before they twig to what’s happening and decide they have business elsewhere.

He smiles to himself when he wins the bet, watching the pair start crawling away before they’re able to regain their feet the second time, shooting Jongdae worried looks over wobbly shoulders.

Of course, Jongdae’s just as incapacitated as they are, but since he’s already casually sprawled like the rest of the Exo pack, he appears entirely unaffected and evidently on the verge of facial vandalism.

The first sign of Minseok’s pack regaining control of their bodies is the building symphony of laughter all around him.

“Man, that never gets old,” Chanyeol sighs, wiping tears from his eyes.  “Now who wants cake?”

Everyone’s hand goes up.

With a bashful smile, Kyungsoo opens the plastic cake safe sheltering his latest culinary creation.  It’s a chocolate cake flavored with fancy orange liqueur, the smooth ganache on top embellished by curly orange script reading “We Survived!”

Minseok can tell all of the shorter alpha’s provider instincts are being thoroughly sated as he slices generous wedges and distributes them on One Piece themed paper plates that a gleeful Jongin had found in the kids’ party section of the local megamart.

Sehun obligingly pours another round of soju, playing the beleaguered maknae even though his own provider instincts are surely singing in satisfaction.

“To our Minseok,” Yifan toasts.  “Exo’s merciful badass—unlike his mate, who I fully believe would joyfully murder anyone who even looked at his precious partner funny.”

The pack laughs and Minseok grins down at his fierce little Berserker.  What a pair they make.

“Plus Minseok-hyung’s nice and quiet which is a nice change from Jongdae-hyung’s whining,” Sehun adds from where he’s lounging in the grass.

“And Minseok-hyung’s actually capable of sitting still, unlike his mate.”  Kyungsoo’s smile is disarmingly sweet.

“And Minseok-hyung can dance,” Jongin adds, smile growing wider when Jongdae whines in protest of this disparagement of his skills.

“And he smells like Christmas candy instead of a melting motor,” Zitao adds with a smirk

“And he knows how to put his shoes in the rack instead of leaving them on the floor,” Junmyeon joins in, scowl of censure clearly fake.

“He actually reads books instead of just manhwa,” Chanyeol points out.

“He doesn’t have to call his moms every time he tries to cook something,” Yixing teases.

“But he’s terrible at video games,” Baekhyun concludes, wearing a friendly smile that Minseok easily returns.  The sun-scented beta has indeed warmed up to his best friend’s mate and while Baekhyun is still antagonistic of the alpha it’s now entirely playful rather than resentful.

Jongdae is in full-on pout mode, slumped dejectedly on his mate’s laughter-jostled shoulder.  “Hyung, they’re so mean to me,” he whines against Minseok’s neck.

“Ignore them,” Minseok whispers into his beta’s ear.  “You’re absolutely perfect and I adore you.”

“I love you, too,” Jongdae coos, straightening up to press his fond smile against Minseok’s own.

Minseok grins down at his slice of survival-celebration cake.  He _has_ survived and he has way more than chocolate cake to show for it.  He has a mate and a family that supports and defends him, and it feels really fucking good.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ

Minseok should be used to it by now.  The kisses. The caresses. The smiles.  The hugs. He should be used to his mate clinging to him as if he had a static field around him, yet he still finds himself surprised at his good fortune.  He’s so lucky to have his Dae even if strangers still stare at them in public, as if Minseok’s bright smile is as unexpected as his ruby eyes.

His life is so much better now that he belongs to a pack again, one full of teasing and bickering but also respect and support.  It sure beats being a lone wolf, an asocial outcast avoiding interaction with others outside of what his engineering classes demand.  Now that he’s a mated man, he’s joyfully abandoned his solitary existence to clasp the hand of the beta who’d reached for his heart, more than pleased to allow his beta’s family to become his own.  Minseok’s love for the Exo pack and especially his Jongdae is unbounded, unending, unequaled.

Often inaudible, but never inexpressible.

  ɑ **♡** ɞᘀ **♡** ᗋᗊᗋ **♡** ᗽʚ **♡** ɒ


End file.
